BRIGKBATS 




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Class _:?_S_?-il3_ 
Book JA^q.. 

(kpiglit>i" 



COPyRICHT DEPOSIT. 



HEVVKE WASHINGTON 






BRICKBATS 

AND BOUQUETS 



BY 

COL. JOHN A. JOYCE 

Author of "Checkered Life," "Peculiar Poems," "Jewels 

of Memory," " Oliver Goldsmith," " Edgar 

Allan Poe," " Songs," etc., etc. 



'Truth unvarnished is the greatest good."— Joyce. 
Cos Ingeniorum. 




F. TENNYSON NEELY 



[4 Fifth Avenue 
NEW YORK 



96 Queen Street 
LONDON 



THF ta 'Ar^V OF, 
CON-RESS. 

AUG. 12 1902 

CorvwoMT twTwv 
CLASS ft^ XXaNo. 

13 oh ^ f 

I COPY B. 

Copyright, 1902, 

by 

JOHN A. JOYCE, 

in the 

United States 

and 
Great Britain. 



Entered at 
Stationers' Hall, London. 

All Rights Reserved. 



^'i^ 



Brickbats and Bouquets. 



I DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO 

THE MEMORY OF THE 

PHILOSOPHER EPICTETUS, 

THE SUBJECT AND SLAVE OF NERO, BUT THE 

LOFTY INTELLECTUAL SUPERIOR OF 

THE ROMAN TYRANT. 

J. A. J. 



PREFACE. 

My object in writing this book is to throw kiln- 
dried Brickbats of truth at the horrid head of 
hypocrisy, envy, malice, selfishness and tyranny; 
and while I have little hope of reforming the 
sneaking, sordid, arrogant crew, it will give me 
great pleasure to see the dear Eeader occasionally 
dodge and exclaim, ''He didn't mean that for me !" 
■The bouquets I throw at the modest few, and the 
personified gods and goddesses speak for them- 
selves. J. A. J. 



PERSONS REPRESENTED. 



LAURA LOVE.— Queen of the World. 
*' Love like a shadow flies, when substance love puraues; 
Pursuing that that tlies, and flying what v^rsues.''— Shakespeare. 

HORACE HATE.— Czar of the Earth. 
" Had I power, I should pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, 
Uprear the universal peace, confound all unity on earth." 

—Shakespeare-. 

HARRY HOPE.— Page to the Queen. 
" True hope is swift, and flies with swallows' wings; 
Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures Kings. "—STiafcespeare. 

TERRA TRUTH.— The Everlasting. 
"Oh, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil''— Shakespeare. 

HALLAM HYPOCRISY.-A Politician. 
" Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, your hand, 
your tongue: 
Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it." 

—Shakespeare. 

ELLA ENVY.— A Common Gossip. 
" O, what a world is this, when what is comely- 
En venoms him that bears it.'"— Shakespeare. 

GEORGE GENEROSITY.— A Prodigal Son. 
" For his bounty. 
There was no Winter in't: an Autumn 'twas, 
Ihat grew the more by reaping;."'— Shakespeare. 

WALTER WIT.-A Fool and Philosopher. 

" Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; 

By and by it will strike.''''— Shakespeare. 

DIANA DESPAIR.— A Cloudy Creature. 
"OGod! OGod! 
How weary, stale, flat and unprofltable 
Seems to me all the uses of this yvorld,''— Shakespeare, 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. PAGK 

The Passions Assembled at Mount Olympus 1 

CHAPTER II. 
The Dawn and Separation 5 

CHAPTER III. 
An Autobiography 7 

CHAPTER IV. 
A Peep at the Past 11 

CHAPTER V. 
Nazer, the City of Sorrow 14 

CHAPTER VI. 
Tigrannas • Ingratitude Rebuked 21 

CHAPTER VII. 
A Visit to People of the Past 27 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Rome and Its Power .^^ 34 

CHAPTER IX. 
On the Wing to Venice, Florence and Paris, , 46 



vi Contents. 

CHAPTER X. PAOE 

London, Its Guilt and Glory 65 

CHAPTER XI. 
A Temperate Talk 101 

CHAPTER XII. 
Soaring, Prophecy, Justice 109 

CHAPTER XIII. 
Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry 130 



BRICKBATS AND BOUQUETS, 



CHAPTER I. 

THE PASSIONS ASSEMBLED AT MOUNT OLYMPUS. 

Love. Billions of years have passed away, my 
sardonic Horace, since first we met on this grand 
mountain top to talk of life and death. Yon blue 
field of Omnipotence, gemmed with diamond stars 
of heavenly light and love, and that round full 
moon sailing in pale grandeur through mysteri- 
ous realms — shine on us to-night with the same 
spiritual radiance that illumined her birth. The 
comet, eclipse and hurricane have come and gone 
in regular round, while earthquake shocks and 
volcanic fires have changed the face of the globe, 
rearing mountains out of the ocean and sinking 
the tallest peaks of the world into her wild womb 
where deepest coral caves echo to the unceasing 
voice of N'ature. 

Look, far away, where the king of day rises 
out of his watery bath in the East to illuminate 
by his majestic footsteps the plains and mountain^ 



2 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

of remote antiquity. There, before the Arian, 
Persian or Egyptian races bowed down to worship 
the smiles of"^the sun, vast myriads of mankind 
lingered at his shrine and sank back to the dust 
from whence they sprung, leaving no record or 
monument to magnify their memory. Behold, in 
full splendor, the morning sun! 

Shine Old thou glorious sun upon a sleeping world, 
And tlirill the soul luith fires from far above — 
^Yhere thunderbolts are forged and flashed and 

hurled 
By one Almighty hand, source of light and love. 

Let stars and moons and planets in their siveeping 
Pale their light before thy splendid sway, 
^Yhile I, 7ny iveary matin watch am keeping 
To catch the glory of the God of day. 

What does it all mean? I have invited this 
morning seven of our friends to assemble under 
this great grove of pines to solve the problem of 
life, at least, and hear from each words of love and 
hope that may do good to mankind, before we 
separate throughout the world in search of abso- 
lute peace and pleasure. 

Hate. Talk to me not of the good of mankind 
and pleasure that shall never be perfect. I hate 
the world, and with my handmaid Despair, I 
would gladly see the waters of the earth rise over 
all the continents and engulf the human race in 
one eternal grave. I smile at desolation and 
^eatb, and long to be married to the morgue of 
f)b]ivion, I wish to ride on the crested wave of 



The Passions Assembled. 3 

some universal billow, where I may nurse the 
pangs of Despair to my flinty heart. 

Love. Hark! I hear the musical footsteps of 
my glorious Page — Hope. His face lights up my 
darkest hour, and his voice like summer zephyrs, 
blowing over a grove of orange flowers, soothes 
me in the vale of deepest sorrow. Come to my 
arms and heart, my bright boy, ever young and 
beautiful. No cloud ever shadowed thy brow; no 
storm ever chilled thy heart and no chance has 
ever yet put the palace of thy soul in ruins. 

Hope. My Love — My Queen. I flew with the 
wings of pure passion to sit at thy feet this glorious 
morning and listen to our brothers and sisters dis- 
course upon the way to find perfect happiness. 

Envy. How can there be any happiness when 
Generosity dallies with Love, who imagines herself 
better than any one else; and who forever fools 
the poor Prodigal out of his wits ? 

Wit. That is more than she could do with you, 
for Envy, like your name, has so gangrened your 
cold heart that wit or generosity could never enter 
where malice sits enthroned. 

Hypocrisy. You seem to forget that Envy is 
one of my sweet sisters, and though I like you very 
well, you must not presume too much on my 
candid good nature. 

Truth. Oh ! Thou canting hypocrite, what 
cold and calculating lies emanate from thy dupli- 
cate lips and how often you wear the garb of God 
to serve the dictation of your master, the devil. 
I. have seen you in church and state, through all 
the changing tides of time, and while constantly 
professing to be my dearest friend, I have found 



4 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

in the end that you are a knave at heart ; and like 
the catacombs of Egypt your soul is dry and va- 
cant as the dusty sepulchres of its forgotten kings. 
We have assembled to take a survey of mankind, at 
the suggestion of Love, our Queen, and while 
many of you doubt the continuous force of her 
affection, you dare not deny the everlasting prin- 
ciple of Truth. It is ever fresh and young, never 
weary, never old and it shall never die. The first 
dawn of creation ushered in its heavenly light ; and 
long after the temples and towers of earth shall 
be buried in the all-consuming maw of Time 
with the hands and hearts that reared them — 
Truth shall soar away on wings of celestial light 
and reign forever in immortal youth. 



The Dawn and Separation. 



CHAPTER 11. 

THE DAWN AND SEPARATION. 

Love. See, the fairy footsteps of the dawn have 
brushed away the magic mists upon the moun- 
tain tops. Let us plume our broad wings and fly 
away in search of peace and perfect pleasure. 
Hope and Hate shall hie with me to a land where 
freedom reigns and where Nature herself echoes 
the glad notes of liberty. Truth shall have for 
companions Hypocrisy and Envy, and shall wan- 
der for years in oriental climes — and Generosity, 
my oldest brother, must endure the pangs of 
Despair and suffer the taunts of Wit. Year after 
year, at some designated spot, we may meet at the 
impulse of my desire, and while forever abiding 
with our personal nature we shall be ubiquitous. 
When many more billions of years shall be re- 
corded in the tomes of the past, we may get a 
glimpse of the lightning Spirit of Jehovah, who 
now veils from our clouded vision the secrets of 
His immortal realms. 

Love is a flower that never fades 
On valley, mountain or glen; 
Fresh as the blossoms of everglades 
It reigns o'er the hearts of men. 



6 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

As the last notes of this chorus died away, the 
nine passions arose from the pinnacle of Mount 
Olympus, Love, Hope and Hate bearing away to 
the west and north, Truth, Hypocrisy and Envy 
to the east, and Generosity, Despair and Wit to 
the south and sunny climes. 



An Autobiography. 



CHAPTER III. 

AN" AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

I AM Fate. No living being in the vast worlds 
I create, manage and destroy has ever caught a 
spark from the iron forge of my philosophy. This 
little earth is but a grain of sand to the illimitable 
spheres I govern and inhabit. The smallest grass- 
blade, the tallest oak, the longest river, highest 
mountain, wildest ocean, the most beautiful but- 
terfly, the largest or smallest stars, are but scrolls 
and emblems of my mammoth map of magnifi- 
cence. 

Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, and all the 
seasons of all my globes are only cogwheels in 
the machinery of my unchanging, absolute, in- 
evitable systems. Nations rise and fall at my 
dictation like bubbles on a stormy sea. Suns, 
moons, planets and stars swing and shine in name- 
less space at my will — and then, "shoot from their 
glorious spheres and pass away to darkle in tho 
trackless void.'^ Yet, I go on forever, with a 
whisper in the ear of the flowers, a roar in the 
heart of the storm, a tear in the eye of the rain, 
and a rod in the hand of the lightning. I am the 
soul and right arm of God. His will is mine and 
mine is His. 



8 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

You hear in the voice of my thunder. 
The glory and greatness of God; 
You see in the flash of the lightning 
The sweep of my glittering rod. 

You feel in the rush of the rain 
The flow of my melting tears. 
And hear in the midnight tvinds 
The music of all my spheres. 

You see in the limitless ocean 
The swell of my heaving breast. 
And the hour is near when you shall 
Sink to my bosom of infinite rest. 

Alexander, on the Indus, Caesar on the Euhi- 
con, Napoleon on the Ehine, and Washington on 
the Delaware were only convenient instruments in 
the plan of my destruction and construction. 
The priests who mumbled their morning lies at the 
temple of Memnon, the purple philosophers of 
Rome who pretend to infallibility, and the 
cro^^nied cormorants of ro3^al robbers, are but rusty 
links in the glittering chain of my divinity. 
Fools, fools, all fools, to pretend to "fathom the 
depths of my eternal will. 

"The flood of years" that I have emptied into 
*^the silent ocean of the past," are but a moment 
to the circling cycles that I shall call out of the 
womb of the future. Those on the earth to-day 
are but surf on the sea of life. 

The babe that slumbers at its mother's breast; 
the sage with flowing beard and snovy locks, and 
the king and queen with imperial power, shall 



An Autobiography. 9 

leave their loves, hopes and fears and be over- 
whelmed and forgotten in the depths of my mys- 
terious ocean. The proud spirits of all mortality 
shall pass away, but they who believe in me and 
act the truth shall ^'^some day" breathe and live 
in the fragrant gardens of Omnipotence, where 
the refreshing waters of immortality flow and 
sparkle forever over the golden sands of my celes- 
tial dominions, and where the sweet songs of birds 
symphonize seraphic salvation. 

This life is but a rugged road, a narrow path 
and a stormy stepping stone to higher spheres. I 
ride on the broad back of the whirlwind, demolish- 
ing temples, towers and mountains in my wild, 
mad career. I delve with the worm that never 
dies. In the secret caves of buried nations and on 
altars raised to the memory of forgotten gods I 
place the tooth of time that gnaws away to noth- 
ingness the moldering memories of man. The 
eye, ear and heart of my creatures are shut out 
from a view of my face and form, and an insur- 
mountable wall of darkness rears its bleak and rug- 
ged ribs to bar Life from viewing Death. Life 
must die to see Death, and Death must live to see 
Life. The good and the bad are of my creation. 
I am each in all, and all in each. To the sweet- 
est rose I give the sharpest thorn, and to the de- 
lusive tongue of Hope I finally give the truest 
promise of faith and fortune. Out of the bottom 
of this cracked and shattered sphere I will raise 
up man to a higher plane of thought, and beyond 
the grave he shall shine with a luster fadeless and 
eternal. I, sit enthroned on silent arctic moun- 
tains ; I walk in tropic isles and over the wild, widi 



10 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

earth^I breathe upon its flowers, crack and greatly 
Bliake its granite ribs with my ponderous tread. 
The last breath of the lovely child I snatch away 
and waft its parting sigh into a new-born babe in 
other lands, where beauty never withers, where age 
is never known, where sorrow never reigns and 
where Truth flourishes in immortal green. 



A Peep at the Past, n 



CHAPTER IV. 

A PEEP AT THE PAST. 

Truth. Well Y^e might rest here. The Pyra- 
mids throw their shadows over dilapidated memo- 
rials, the Sphynx is as voiceless as the tomb, and 
the hooting owl and screeching bat are the only 
living things heard from the broken temple of 
Karnak or the moldering ruins of Thebes. 

Hypocrisy. I remember well my old friend 
Eameses and Philadelphus, who would not take 
my diplomatic advice when president of their 
senate house; and yet while I urged them with 
the oily tongue to avoid war and conquest, I gave 
secret aid to the plotting enemy, and finally 
brought about the decay and ruin that deception 
and betrayal engenders. These rulers of the 
ancient world looked in my face and eye to be 
flattered by my seeming sincerity; yet had they 
looked through the breast into my heart they 
might have seen the devil of duplicity sitting en- 
throned on its topmost pulsations. 

Envy. Yes, my dear brother, had Zenobia, 
Semiramis and Cleopatra not rebuked and scorned 
me by the beauty and talent they displayed at 
banquets given to cunning courtiers, their grand 
cities might be to-day the glory of the earth, in- 



12 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

stead of broken mounds of rubbish. I could not 
bear the painted jades of royalty, and see them 
take awa}' the fresh laurels that should have en- 
circled my brow. And so with a look of envy, a 
gangrened heart and a stiletto tongue, I, too, 
urged the foreign invader to seek and capture the 
wealth and power I could not command. Now, 
I appeal to Truth to say if I did not serve them 
right. 

Truth. ]^o; the wiles and subterfuges of 
Hypocrisy and the gnawing meanness of Envy 
can never wholly obliterate the glory of the beau- 
tiful, good and grand; and even the failings of 
the heroic and great are far better than the pre- 
tended virtues of your assassin tongues. 

The glory of Cleopatra can not be easily for- 
gotten. Her love for Antony is as immortal as 
the soul of humanity, and shall abide adown the 
changing tides of time, as long as faith, hope and 
charity actuate the hearts of men. The suicide 
for pure passionate love of Antony and Cleo- 
patra find few parallels in the history of this 
sordid, cowardly world. 

ExvY. Yes, but her beaut}^ power and pas- 
sion did not save her from the grasp of the uni- 
versal master, Fate, who rides over the rolling 
ages and destroys all creeping creatures. 

Hypockist. Well, my sweet sister, since we 
are formed in the general mold of our elder 
brother. Truth, we can smile or sneer at his wis- 
dom, and although not as outspoken as he is, 
we often gain by dissimulation the victories he 
loses by bluntness. 

Truth. Your victories are 9-^ temporary and 



A Peep at the Past. 13 

fleeting as the shadows that glide away from these 
broken columns and ruined temples where once 
the priests of Isis and Osiris chanted their praises 
to the rising sun. 

Come, my callous companions, let us descend 
into this buried city; wander through catacombs 
of blasted hopes and view the evanescent glory of 
man. Trim your lamps, husband your oil, do 
not doubt, follow my footsteps and fear not. 



14 Brickbats and Bouquets. 



CHAPTER V. 

NAZER, THE CITY OF SORROW. 

• Truth. A million years to-day I left the city 
that now sleeps before ns. Step carefully along 
these winding, crumbling marble stairs. We are 
now under the dead city of Thebes — down, down, 
five miles away, around granite hills, land-locked 
lakes; pulseless and still, along deep chasms and 
over wide drawbridges, barely clinging to their 
parent abutments. 

Look, there in the shining distance rises the 
tall, white walls of the great city of Nazer. It 
was an hundred miles long and fifty miles wide. 
Its temples, towers and palaces, reached up to 
touch the morning sunlight or rest their heads in 
the region of the midnight stars — a thousand to 
ten thousand feet above the surrounding plains — 
and its marble streets ran away, at right angles, to 
the horizon, in a width of five bunded feet. Let 
us enter. 

And so saying, Truth touched a stone in the 
great wall, and immediately a ponderous marble 
gate moved around on its rusty hinges, sounding 
like the roar of echoing thunder, or the far off 
wail of some troubled ocean, lashing its angry sides 
against rocky headlands. Behold, said Truth, 



Nazer, the City of Sorrow. 15 

feast your eyes on the result of hypocrisy and in- 
gratitude. This was the empire city of the mag- 
nificent Nazer, his beautiful queen Kuinya and his 
only daughter Foolya. 

The Emperor had brought many nations under 
his subjection, and the wealth of the globe con- 
tributed to his vaulting ambition. Adjoining his 
great white palace, lifting its towering domes and 
glittering minarets beyond the changing clouds 
that blew in beauty over this enchanted land 
stood the royal harem. The building was of 
transparent marble, nine stories high, dedicated 
to the muses, who in the realm of imagination, 
often gossiped with the transcendant beauties 
that graced this haunt of love and mellifluous 
dalliance. 

There were five thousand rooms in the estab- 
lishment, which was appropriated to the use of the 
nine hundred and ninety-nine sweet maidens, se- 
lected from the most beautiful women of all the 
world, for the delectation of the great Nazer. 
Blabnoblab was the chief eunuch, and was 
charged with the selection and supply of this 
young and tender food for his royal master. The 
first entrance of the novice to this abode of luxury 
and pleasure was purely voluntary on the part of 
those who accepted the terms of admission. 

It was well understood throughout Nazer's vast 
dominions, containing a billion of people, that 
when any of the daughters of his realm arrived at 
the age of fourteen that very day she mi^jht 
offer herself as one of the consenting concubines 
at the front door of the seraglio. If she was ac- 
cepted because of her beauty, intelligence and 



l6 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

energy, she was required to sign a short contract, 
from her own blood, pledging herself that for the 
term of twenty-one years, if life was spared, she 
would be true, pure and faithful to the will of 
Nazer, receiving therefor every luxury that wealth 
and power could bestow, but on the very day she 
arrived at the age of thirty-five, she solemnly 
pledged her love and honor to enter the vast 
chloroform and embalming hall of the harem, in- 
hale the joys of death and retire forever to her 
numbered sarcophagus, lined with purple velvet 
and swan's down, satisfied with life and blessing 
the hour that brought her to such a delicious dedi- 
cation of divinity ! 

If the devotee accepted these unalterable terms, 
she was furnished with a small ruby sunburst 
Jewel, set in blue diamonds, with her special num- 
ber indented in topaz, and was then ushered into 
the grand onyx reception hall by Blabnoblab, and 
introduced to the brevet wife of Nazer, who was 
universally considered to be the most beautiful 
and fascinating woman in the world. 

This wonderful star of the harem, Lenona, 
was, at the time of which we speak, nineteen years 
old. Her height was five feet nine; eyes, blue as 
a June sky; lips, pink as Mediterranean coral; 
limbs and bust round, harmonious and full, and 
her great wealth of golden hair showered away 
from her bright, arched brow, like a fountain 
gracefully flowing over an alabaster vase. 

She ruled the seraglio with a golden rod of 
love, and when the small complaints of her sisters 
rang in her ears, she laughed them into silence and 
repose by her example of affection and equanimity. 



Nazer, the City of Sorrow. 17 

In the southern angle of the great white harem 
was a mammoth pool or swimming bath of pure 
spring water. The walls, sides and bottom were 
of variegated onyx, be jeweled with crystal stars 
and interspersed with mirrors, while the ceiling 
was a concave of reflecting glass, showing in mag- 
nified form, the objects disporting below. Its 
depth ranged from three to thirty feet, where the 
timid walker or desperate diver would be sure 
to find pleasure suited to their respective tastes. 
Swinging trapeze, slanting slides and spring 
boards of polished mahogany were erected at suit- 
able spots for the bliss of the bounding bathers. 

Birds of the rarest plumage were encaged in 
silver cribs and sent forth a flood of delicious 
melody in response to the light laughter and sweet 
strains of these oriental nymphs; all conjoined 
v/ith a golden band of five hundred instruments. 

At eleven o'clock each morning, an\hour before 
breakfast, Lenona led her regiment of naked 
swans into the hot-air chamber, lingered ten min- 
utes on velvet divans, proceeded thence to the 
tepid water pool, where an eunuch, of ebony hue, 
manipulated the matchless maiden with scented 
soap, after which the grand bevy, in sections, pla- 
toons and companies plunged into the pellucid 
waters of the harem lake, and gave themselves up 
to the clasp of the refreshing springs that fed this 
liquid home of love. 

The constant and variable actions of the bath- 
ers was enough to set the beholder in a whirl of 
dizzy amazement. Some swung on the horizon- 
tal bars, leaped from the spring boards, shot in 
long lines down the sweeping skids, while others 



1 8 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

in lock-legged loveliness swam about the pool, in 
"undulating swells, like water-lilies waving in 
some summer stream. 

The promenade gallery around the upper story 
of the grand bath, screened by purple silk cur- 
tains, was devoted to the use of specially invited 
guests, who had performed in war or peace some 
great service to the state. And, lucky was the 
man that could have the privilege of feasting his 
famished eyes on the forbidden fruit, so near and 
yet so far. 

To violate the privilege of witnessing this 
scene was instant death by strangulation in the 
perfume vault. Yet it was related on very good 
authority, no less than Blabnoblab, that thirteen 
old senators of Nazer's realm willingly forfeited 
their lives for the delectable bliss of anticipation 
and participation. 

Envy. You discourse fluently with volcanic 
words about these painted harem beauties, who 
live a dreary life of gilded idleness. What kind 
of a man was Nazer and his great lords? 

Truth. Nazer weighed three hundred pounds, 
measured five feet nine, upwards and about half 
this distance across. He was arrogant and heart- 
less, working only for his selfish pleasure and 
power. Those who bent in humility and went 
through the regulation genuflections to his pride, 
pelf and pretenses were given the best offices 
around the palace or through the realm, and those 
vrho betrayed any signs of "kicking^^ against the 
tyrant, were relegated to the shades of private 
life, or strangled, with quickness and kindness, 
as it were, in the perfume vault, where the hot 



Nazer, the City of Sorrow. 19 

fumes of sure death wafted them over the river 
Styx. He professed all virtues and reforms on 
the surface and practiced all the vices and ini- 
quities in secret. oSTone Icneiu him but to hate him, 
none named him but to damn. He was a devotee 
of duplicity and debauchery, a maxim of mean- 
ness, and a synonym of vice and insincerity. 

The congress of Nazer was composed of thirty- 
three senators and a hundred and thirty-three 
representatives. These great (?) men were 
elected by the people every three years — not be- 
cause the Emperor really needed them in his na- 
tional business, but to flatter his loyal subjects 
with the belief, or hallucination, that they were 
"running the machine,'' when, in fact, they were 
the blunt tools, used in shaping the rough ashlers 
put into the palace of his power. 

Nazer had absolute power to veto any part or 
the whole of any bill passed by his congress, yet 
he seldom exercised the power, knowing that if 
he really wanted any ready cash, he had only to 
dissolve the legislative body, order his secretary 
of war to send his army into some neighboring 
country, kill the inhabitants and rob them of 
their money in the usual royal way ! 

And if this did not work quickly and to his satis- 
faction, he sent his grand high steward of the 
palace across the street to the secretary of the 
treasury, and ordered him to sell a billion of 
bonds and forward to the palace at once the pro- 
ceeds or forfeit his office and head in an hour. 
This edict of the Emperor never failed to replen- 
ish the coffers of the royal household. But when- 
ever Nazer resorted to these peculiar and rather 



20 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

rough means, he had the good taste and gener- 
osity to order a general holiday for the people, 
who drank and ate at his (?) expense. To the 
members of congress and supreme court he gave 
a banquet, including all the harem beauties, led 
in grand array by Lenona and followed by Blab- 
noblab, wielding the golden rod of virtue, of 
course. 



Tigrannas; Ingratitude Rebuked, 21 



CHAPTER VI. 

tigrannas; ingratitude rebuked. 

Truth. The great power and wealth of Nazer 
was principally secured by General Tigrannas, the 
commander-in-chief of the realm. He was the 
greatest general who ever lived. Csesar, Hanni- 
bal, Napoleon, Washington and Grant might 
have been capacitated for corporals in his at- 
mosphere, but nothing more. With a thousand 
men he often defeated ten thousand of the 
enemy. His eye flashed like the sun over moun- 
tain tops, or like lightning from a. noonday sky, 
and the celerity of his movements was more sud- 
den and desperate than a Texas "blizzard.^^ 

Hypocrisy. I fear you are too fulsome in your 
praise, and that one man of human mold could 
not do so much to outstrip the other heroes of 
the past and present or those that may come to 
murder their species in the never-ending round of 
future wars. 

Truth. Tigrannas was not born to the purple, 
but rose like a flash from the lowly life of a shep- 
herd boy to almost universal power. It was never 
known who were the parents of Nazer. David and 
Jonathan were not closer friends than they. 
All that Tigrannas asked for U^e trials he endured 



22 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

and the victories he gained was the hand of Foolya 
when she should be eighteen years of age. This 
was readily and cordially promised by the Empe- 
ror when his fate lay trembling in the balance at 
the battle of the Cataracts. The wild hordes of 
Tartary and Persia were driving into the roaring 
Nile the retreating millions of Nazer when Ti- 
grannas unfurled a silken blood red sunburst, 
rushed to the front with the royal guard, slaugh- 
tered the invaders by the thousand, and over their 
bleaching bones set the triumphant standard of 
his friend and master. 

A million captives were led in triumph in the 
train of Nazer. Tigrannas felt sure that now 
he could see the fulfillment of his long-cherished 
hopes, and only awaited the happy day when the 
nuptials of Foolya and himself would be cele- 
brated with all tiie pomp, power and poetry that 
love and riches could command. Of course the 
General was thirty years older than Foolya, but 
age and youth do not seem to have much to do 
with matrimony, when parental ambition inter- 
venes. Foolya and her mother, Euinya, had se- 
lected a young prince of the celestial house of 
Chinchin who was heir to the throne of the great 
king of the moon, a realm far beyond desert sands, 
where the tea bush and the silk worm flourish 
in perennial bloom. They communicated their 
conclusions to the Emperor, who frowned at the 
first suggestion, but when shown that Tigrannas 
could serve the state no lonwr and that the vonno^ 
Prince, with the long queue, would bring millions 
of money and men to his aid, he turned his face 
away ivow the daring General who had achieved 



Tigrannas; Ingratitude Rebuked. 23 

all his victories. Nazer issued at once a "jaw 
jaw" to his vast domain, saying that — 

"To-morrow at noon my beautiful beloved 
daughter Foolya will be eighteen years old, and 
by my royal desire, consent and will, she shall 
marry the illustrious Prince Whangchang, heir 
apparent to the great king of the moon. My city 
shall be adorned and decorated with all the gay 
banners, rich trappings and gorgeous gildings 
that wealth can procure, and a grand feast of 
thirty days is hereby proclaimed to all my people. 
"Signed, Nazer^ 

"Lord of the earth." 

The adjutant-general of Tigrannas called his 
attention to this remarkable and ungrateful proc- 
lamation, as they drove in their chariot to the 
palace. At first Tigrannas thought it a joke of 
some familiar wag or the thrust of some envious 
hypocrite, but when he rushed as usual into the 
office of the Emperor, he was stopped by the royal 
guard with a double-edged sword, who demanded 
his business, and informed the commanding gen- 
eral that his royal master would not see anyone 
without they first sent in their cards, and await 
their turn in the grand audience room. 

This unnerved the great General, as it was 
only the day before he had lunched with his royal 
master. 

Tigrannas was finally admitted to the presence 
of the Emperor, who abruptly demanded his busi- 
ness. The Greneral was not a little abashed, and 
reminded the royal autocrat of his past service to 
the state^ and the pro^iise given to him for the 



24 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

hand of Foolya. "Sir/*' said the Emperor, "you 
seem to forget that 1113^ daughter is a princess of 
the realm, and must marry some one who is her 
equal and not a plebeian^ who rose from the com- 
mon people." 

"Your royal highness forgets that it was this 
plebeian who took you from the ranks of the 
Shepherds, and by his valor at the battle of the 
Cataracts brought victory to your standard and 
established your empire on a solid foundation." 

"Dare not, Tigrannas, talk to me in such lan- 
guage, else I shall make thee feel the iron heel of 
my wrath. Be gone, sir! To-morrow I shall 
issue an order for your perpetual exile to the snows 
of Siberia where the howl of wolves sh-all in time 
chant a requiem over your bleaching bones." 

"Your majesty, I bid you a last farewell on 
earth, but to-morrow when the nuptials of your 
daughter are at the meridian of their splendor 
my spirit shall hover near and my curse for your 
ingratitude shall fall upon your empire." 

He dashed out of the palace, flew past the adju- 
tant-general, ran to the tower of silence, overlook- 
ing the bottomless lake, made one leap into its 
dark bosom and sank, to rise no more. 

The day set for the nuptials of Foolya and 
Whangchang arrived. Artillery guns roared 
forth their greeting from the impregnable forts 
that guarded the city; a thousand golden bands 
discoursed sweetest music; carrier pigeons flew 
through the air adorned with white streamers; 
an army of men marched in every direction, with 
the sunburst flag waving over their purple and 
golden uniforms, and prancing snow white steeds 



Tigrannas; Ingratitude Rebuked. 25 

neighed forth a welcome to the scene as if they 
knev/ the people of the empire were doing homage 
to their young miitress. 

The grand audience hall, two thousand feet 
long, one thousand feet wide, with a white marble 
throne at the head fifty feet high, was filled with 
the nobility of the realm. Grand old dames, with 
billowb of pufied white hair, and lovely willowy 
ladies, all smiles, and wearing gossamer, cobweb 
veils, lined the hall, and pretty pages held their 
flowing garments. Jewels of the rarest kind, and 
in greatest profusion bedecked these Oriental beau- 
ties. The men were dressed in scarlet breeches, 
blue jackets, powdered wigs, and wore short swords 
and silver slippers with diamond decorations. 

At noon, one long, melodious blast from the 
royal trumpet ushered in the bridal train. Foolya 
leaned on the arm of her father, while Whang- 
chang escorted his prospective mother-in-law. 

The Emperor and Queen took seats under a can- 
opy of fretted gold work, studded with a shower 
of sparkling diamonds, while the royal attend- 
ants knelt on the lovvTr steps, and the bride and 
groom stood on a raised dais fronting the Grand 
High Priest of the replm. 

As the clock struck twelve the High Priest 
instructed the young prince to place the marriage 
ring on the left hand thumb of the princess and 
repeat: '^With this ring I thee wed," when, hor- 
ror of horrors, a broad flash of lightning rent the 
dome of the palace in twain, and a ghostly arm 
with a long, flashing sword, waved three times, 
and a voice of thunder came out of the circum- 
ambient air exclaiming: "Petrified for In- 



26 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

gratitude!" From that ancient day to this you 
behold the palace, city and realm, and every liv- 
ing thing of the ungrateful Nazer, frozen and 
petrified as they once stood in life, a terrible but 
just judgment for the unpardonable sin of un- 
pardonable ingratitude. 

"Nazer: Down to the dust, and as thou rotfst 

away, 
Even worms shall perish on thy poisonous clay." 

— Byron. 



A Visit to People of the Past. 27 



CHAPTEE VIT. 

A VISIT TO PEOPLE OF THE PAST. 

Truth. Come, Envy and Hypocrisy, let ns 
visit some of the human wrecks that lie prone on 
these desolate and barren shoals of time. Hear 
me discourse, but speak not, for should your 
voice be heard by the spirit that reigns over tlie; e 
ruins, the whole dead city we now behold, \/ith its 
ghostly columns, groups and petrified people 
would vanish away in an instant and overwhelm 
you in an ocean of dense dust. 

At the end of this grand avenue that lies before 
us lived my old gnarled and dilapidated friend 
Wisdom, a poet and a philosopher. He was the 
poorest man in the city, and the richest ; poor in 
the corroding goods of this world, but rich in those 
divine attributes that can evolve happiness from 
a crust of bread and a cup of water. 

Hark ! how the echo of our faint footfalls re- 
verberate along these crowded streets, filled with 
millions of pilloried men, hitched by the hand of 
Eate to the same spot where life left them. How 
their eyeballs stare ; and the horse and the rider 
seem to be tripping away to the brazen music that 
once filled the air with melody. Be careful, and 
for your life do not touch a mortal; yet light as 



28 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

a bird on the wing, let us traverse the winding 
ways of this great city and gain knowledge from 
these vain and nngrateful people who promised 
themselves immortality. 

This is the modest garden where Wisdom o^ce 
tanght the young lessons of temperance and vic- 
torious virtue. He had pupils from every clime, 
and the small and the great, and the good and the 
bad came for his advice and craved the privilege 
of drinking at the exhaustlcss fountain of his 
philosophy. Look, there he sits under a giant 
palm, with a broad, high, rugged brow and flow- 
ing snowy beard, surrounded by a throng of listen- 
ing scholars, with eager ears to catch the wise 
words of the old sage as he explains to a class 
in physiology the particular parts of the bleached 
skeleton that hangs on wires before the school. 

Let us turn for a moment to the royal restau- 
rant, where Bacchus and the muses held sway for 
the amusement of the ancient revelers. Behold 
the various groups seated around red tables, vdtli 
glasses raised for a toast, as life departed like a 
flash of lightning. 

Come to the sick chamber and behold the dying 
girl. The curtains were drawn low, and the only 
sound was the labored breathing of the departing 
girl and the click of the old water clock in the 
liall. Those in good health had faces draped in 
sorrow, and the mournful phase of the scene as 
all were struck dumb and dead, harrows the heart 
with fear and amazement. 

Let us enter the prison that overhangs the bot- 
tomless lake where the heroic Tigrannas found 
surcease from sorrow. Here is the crooked, dark 



A Visit to People of the Past. 29 

passage where state criminals entered on a life of 
hard work or starvation, or passed on to the ex- 
ecution block of bogwood to expiate the so-called 
crime of rebellion. 

Thousands of my best brothers, through all the 
wearing centuries, have suffered for my sake at 
the cowardly and cruel hands of tyrants. But the 
race of rebels still live, while the dastard dynas- 
ties of royal robbers are crumbling away before the 
grand march of mind and manhood. Remember 
always that truth in the minority is a thousand- 
fold stronger than error with its hoAvling majority. 
The sun, moon and stars illumine the pathway 
of Truth, while the selfish and unrighteous grope 
in the dark defiles of Stvgian night, sooner or 
later tumbling into the black, unfathomable waters 
of forgetf Illness. 

The rebels of past, present .ai;d future centuries 
ever have, and ever will be, the real guardians of 
my principles. Eebcl ! The sweetest word that 
ever fell from the lips of Truth. Christ was a 
rebel against wrong and comes to us down the 
ages in a blaze of celestial glory. His golden 
rule of doing to others what you would have them 
do unto you has never found lodgment in the 
cruel hearts of tyrants. His lesson of peace on 
earth and good will to men has never been prac- 
ticed by the princes and potentates who pretended 
to rule by divine right. 

Martin Luther was a rebel against the dense 
ignorance and bigotry of his day, and the tyran- 
nical edicts of pampered princes. He struck from 
the limbs of Liberty the shackles of servitude, 
and placed on the pedestal of freedom the great 



30 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

statue of individual conscience and personal re- 
sponsibility. No worship of our Maker by proxy, 
but, from the plowman in the field to the prince 
in the palace, every one has the inalienable right 
to kneel for himself, read for himself, pray for 
himself, look up into the heavens and die for him- 
self and his God. 

No man needs a "middle man" between himself 
and his maker ! 

Pope Pius the Ninth was a rebel against in- 
fidelity, intemperance and injustice. His benevo- 
lent face and good deeds shone from the Vatican 
like rays of a central sun, and although many 
doubted his creed and infallibility, the world ac- 
knowledged his charity and sincerity. Three hun- 
dred millions of devoted followers turn their eyes 
and hearts to the towering dome of St. Peter's to- 
day, and from the sacred ashes of Pope Pius the 
Ninth, the phoenix cf a celestial consolation arises 
out of the gloom of infidelity, spreads its broad 
wings over the universe and soars away into the 
illimitable regions of heavenly hope and eternal 
rest. 

The thundering elocjuence of Demosthenes, 
CicerO;, Mirabeau. Gambetta, Sheridan, Patrick 
Henry and Wendell Phillips rebelled against the 
crimes of tyranny, and although their lips are 
closed by the portals of the tomb, their words for 
truth and liberty go sounding down the ages, in- 
spiring the souls of all who rebel against wrong 
and oppression. 

Washington was a colossal rebel, and made his 
rebellion a magnificent success. He cut the main 
tentacles from the British octopus and stopped 



A Visit to People of the Past. 31 

the valves of this huge blood-sucker. He taught 
the tyrant good behavior at the point of the 
bayonet, the only argument royal robbers under- 
stand or respect. 

Lincoln was a rebel against the slavery of a 
race and the disruption of a Republic ; and Stone- 
wall Jackson was a rebel against what he imag- 
ined the vandalism of power. One died by the 
insane hand of an assassin, and left a name be- 
hind that will live as long as human hearts pulsate 
with love of liberty. Rooted in the rifted rocks 
of time shall be his temple of everlasting glory. 
The mountains of Columbia, lifting their heads 
into the boundless blue, and the murmuring rivers 
of the American continent, shall mingle forever 
with his fame, but the noblest monument to his 
memory are the four million shackles struck from 
the galling limbs of the bondsman. The example 
of the immortal Lincoln shall continue to bless 
the world, until crowned with the diadem of 
Liberty, we shall acknowledge the image of God 
in all men and pluck from the calendar of our 
hearts the demon of caste and persecution. 

St. Paul, on Mars Hill, smashing the idols of 
paganism, among the classic corridors and tower- 
ing columns of the Acropolis ; Humboldt, delving 
into the earth or climbing snow-capped mountains, 
Newton, with his falling apple, and Franklin 
catching a ray of heavenly light from the eye of 
eTehovah, were, one and all, first-rate rebels, in 
the interest of Truth, Virtue, Science and Liberty. 

Rebel! to thee I kneel and lift my hands and 
voice in thy praise. A grand bronze statue for 
all the ageS; standing in the center of Liberty's 



32 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

temple, worshiped by the good and great and re- 
viled by the robber and the tyrant \ 

We will now proceed on our journey and see 
more of the petrified prison. 

Here is the ponderous gate half open on its 
rusty hinges, and the keeper with his iron key 
as he escorts a trembling, famished lot of prison- 
ers to their stony cells. Let us enter. Look, the 
great water wheel that once turned the machinery, 
rises a hundred feet into the heavens and sinks 
into the dark pit below a hundred more. Men in 
black garbs are seen everywhere, motionless now 
as when the curse of Tigrannas petrified Nazer 
and his dominion. 

Let us pass out and into the dark temple of 
death. Look at the executioner with ax uplifted 
to sever the head from the broad shoulders of a 
daring rebel bound to the black block. High in 
air the instrument of death is lifted by the 
tyrant's agent when he is struck by the lightning 
bolt of Fate and the official murderer and his de- 
voted victim pass into nothingness together. 

The western gate of the city wall is near at hand, 
where we shall again leave behind forever the rich 
remains of arrogance and bloated power. Thus 
saying. Truth touched a spring in the wall, when 
a large marble slab fell away and he bade Envy 
and Hypocrisy to follow. But at that moment 
Envy looked behind, like the celebrated Mrs. Lot, 
and 3^earned for the flesh pots, jewels and wealth 
that were strewn in every direction. 

"Oh ! that I could carry these riches away.'^ The 
expression was no sooner out of her mouth than the 
great walls of the city with its temples and towers 



A Visit to People of the Past. 33 

and animals and people, fell do^vn with a universal 
thunder crash and enveloped Envy and Hypocrisy 
in death, verifying my prediction. * * * 

Trnth barely escaped the desolation that lay be- 
fore his eyes, and as the clouds of dead dust rose 
into the sky and vanished avray like the morning 
mist^ he stood erect and alone on a high hill gazing 
upon the ruin that Envy and Hypocrisy and false 
ambition always bring about. He then plumed his 
pinions and rose into the evening sunlight, soaring 
away to the west in search of his best friends, Love 
and Generosity. 



34 Brickbats and Bouquets. 



CHAPTEK VIII. 

ROME AND ITS POWER. 

Generosity. Let us rest awhile on the shores of 
the Adriatic, wander over Alpine heights and gaze 
upon the moldering memorials that man erected 
for self-laudation on the turbid waters of the 
Tiber. 

Let us rest here near the Coliseum for to-night ; 
and find if any of our old friends can spread a 
bounteous board, cheer our weary hearts and tired 
wings with some of the nectar that once glorified 
the gods. 

1 will play the prodigal, in talk and act, as 
usual; and while Wit is wearing and Despair de- 
pressing, my unsuspecting nature must gladden 
the earth and be the butt of all gradgrinds and 
misers through the whirl of coming years. I was 
born when the moon was in its full, while Venus 
shone upon my nativity and Saturn reigned at 
the very moment of my birth. My lucky and un- 
lucky stars seemed to be bright and cloudy in turn, 
to-day shining with great force and to-morrow 
pbscured by the storms of misfortune. 

In youth, my brothers and sisters said I was a 
fool because I never turned a deaf ear or an empty 
hand to the voice and tears of the distressed, giving 



Rome and Its Power. 35 

with a lavish love and very often leaving myself 
poorer than the person that craved my bounty. 

At home and abroad I am sought after by the 
weary, sad and snubbed, who wander as outcasts 
from the haunts, halls and offices of successful 
Shylocks, that seem to live only for the bare pound 
of flesh cut from the breasts of their unfortunate 
fellow-men. The haughty inmates of palaces, the 
royal riders in gilded chariots, and the bloated 
judges who preside, with a "little brief authorit^y," 
over the misfortunes and mistakes of mankind, fill 
my soul with a nameless disgust, and cause me 
often to doubt the existence of a God, who allows 
the rich and the great to "lord" it over their 
neighbors, like the Euler of the Juggernaut of 
oriental lands. 

At daily dinners and midnight banquets I have 
spent thousands of dollars, entertaining sunshine 
friends, who departed at the first rub in my for- 
tune; but who had the brassy audacity to return, 
like flies around molasses, and feed off me when 
the fickle dame once more shed her financial 
smiles. 

Yet, I blamed not these little creatures, parasites 
on the back of Generosity, pint measure mortals, 
who never can conceive the wide and deep stream 
of beauty and love that flows from the never fail- 
ing fountain of benevolence and Godlike affection. 

While I have never had the same love and lavish- 
ness extended to me that I have imparted to others, 
I am entirely satisfied with my "failings," and can 
only wish that the entire world, in some far off 
age, may be imbued with and practice my open- 
hearted and broad-handed philosophy. I have al- 



36 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

ways found it easier to laugh and sing with the 
world than to weep and sigh, and much pleasanter 
to feast than to fast. 

''Laugh, and the world laughs with you. 

Weep and you weep alone; 
This grand old earth must borrow its mirth. 

It has troubles enough of its own; 
Sing, and the hills ivill answer. 

Sigh, it is lost on the air. 
The echoes bound to a joyful sound 

But shrinh from voicing care. 

"Be glad and your friends are many. 

Be sad and you lose them all, 
There are none to decline your nectared wine 

But alone you must drink life's gall; 
There is room in the halls of pleasure 

For a long and a lordly train. 
But one by one we must all file on 

Through the narrow aisles of pain, 

''Feast, and your halls are crowded. 
Fast, and the world goes by, 
Succeed and give, 'twill help you live 

But no one can help you die; 
Rejoice, and men will seek you, 
Gneve, and they turn and go. 
They ivant full measure of all your pleasure 
But they do not ivant your woe!" 

Wit. What you say may be true, yet fine words 
butter no parsnips, and an empty stomach like 
mine can not feed long on poetry. Many of the 
greatest poets of all the ages died of neglect and 



Rome and Its Power. 37 

{starvation, and tlieir wayward, wandering Baccha- 
nalian lives tended to produce some of -lie llnest 
thoughts in the libraries of the world. The people 
who sit down in their comfortable homes seldom 
think of the trials and tribulations endured by 
Zoroaster, Anacreon, Horace, Dante, Tasso, La- 
martine, Shakespeare, Byron, Burns, Goldsmith 
and Edgar Allan Poe, who were one and all 
devotees of the vv'ine cup, the generator of poetic 
and oratorical thoughts. Let us hie to some 
of these Roman palaces and refresh the inner 
humanity. 

Despair. Yes, I'm tired and nearly starved and 
will surely die of exhaustion and fear unless I par- 
take of some of that real nectar of the gods not 
always found in poetry. 

Generosity. It is' now midnight, when my 
friend, the great Ca3sar, dines with the senators, 
their wives and daugliters ; and I have no doubt he 
will be glad to entertain at least two of us at his 
festive board. 

So saying they alighted from the floating clouds 
of thought to the earth, vround their tortuous v/ay 
down the huge steps of the Coliseum, across the 
arena where the gladiator and the lion once battled 
for the amusement of Roman dames, shouting citi- 
zens and triumphal warriors. How grand and 
beautiful at all times are the ruins of the Coliseum. 

''But ivlien the rising moon begins to climb 
Its topmost arch, and gentlg pauses there; 
When the stars tivinUe through the loops of time. 
And the low night breeze waves along the air," 



38 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

then go and view this magnificent "svreck of man's 
ambition. On they went^ around rearing, crum- 
bling columns, stony streets, broken bridges, 
Hadrian's mole, and the temple of Janus, to the 
marble palace of Caesar, lit from turret to founda- 
tion with dazzling lights, shining on the Capi- 
tolian hill like an Alpine pinnacle of snow illumi- 
nated by the first rays of the morning sun. 

Generosity reached the large lion-headed golden 
knocker and gave three distinct raps on the door. 
It was immediately opened by a tall Egyptian 
from the upper Xile, who announced the advent 
of the newconun-s to a line of succeeding attend- 
ants who roared the names through the grand 
entrance hall, through the reception ]>arlor, and on 
to the throne audience chamber till the vaulted 
roof rang with the names of Generosity, Wit and 
Despair. At the mention of these world-re- 
nowned persons, Augustus arose from his royal 
chair and saluted the immense throng, gave his 
left arm to Generosity and led the way to the 
illuminated banquet hall, where two thousand 
guests were assembled. Caesar sat at the head of 
the table, while his Queen was at the foot. Gener- 
osity sat on the right of the Em})eror, Wit sat 
on the left of the Queen, while Despair was placed 
in the middle next to the Secretary of the Treas- 
ury, where she could pour into his ear peculiar 
words of warning against the issue of silver cer- 
tificates and cartwheel coin, that only loaded the 
vaults of the realm, and lightened the pockets 
of the people, all for the benefit of a few bankers, 
bondholders and retired capitalists. 

One blast from the trumpet of the royal bugler 



Rome and Its Power. 39 

brought the crown bearer to the side of the Em- 
peror who relinquished his diadem, a sig-nal for 
all the guests present to partake of the rich viands 
that were placed before them. 

Such a bill of fare was never seen before or 
since. In the center of the table there was placed, 
rampant, two roasted bulls that had been fed on 
the finest fodder for three years ; and the dripping 
spices from their luscious sides flowed into mam- 
moth dialing dishes, filling the banquet hall with 
an aroma beyond compare. 

Farther on, toward the foot of the table, were 
roasted roebucks, fried fawns, broiled boars, and 
boiled salmon, from the headwaters of the Dan- 
ube, Kennebec and Columbia, while near the head 
of the royal board, five thousand nightingales and 
ten thousand snipe w^ere perched on toast, wait- 
ing devouration. Twenty thousand humming 
bird tongues were imported from South America, 
cooked and passed about by Numidian waiters. 

The fruits were brought from Sicily and 
Persia, and the world w^as put under tribute for 
vegetables and wine. Valernian came from the 
ranch of Maecenas, nectarine from the broad 
womb of Pliny's acres, Clicquot from the rugged 
hills of the Rhine and the Gaul of Peters, Mumm 
from Manhattan, a brevet Irish village beyond 
the sea; Piper Sec, from Philadelphia, a pensive 
town, where people travel along a white rut of 
door steps, because their dead relations did the 
same, and the old brand of Perrier Jouet spouted 
about the table as if Jeff Davis and the Savan- 
nah artillery had nothing else to do but adver- 
tise the "Old Guard/' who fought and fell at 



40 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Waterloo, in the special interest of Napoleon, 
Major McLean and Captain Saunders! 

The knives and forks — Rogers^ best, were of 
the purest silver; the plates and dishes were of 
the finest work, and the cups and saucers were 
chased out of the brightest variegated onyx, 
emerald, lapis-lazuli, turquoise and topaz, while 
the Emperor and his consort drank out of dia- 
mond cups, rimmed by pigeon-blood rubies. 

This remarkable table service was manufac- 
tured, on general principles, by a gentleman 
named Tifianni, who kei)t at one time a pawn 
shop on the west end of the Rialto, but who, 
through the patronage of Ca?sar, became tlie 
grand jewel purveyor of the realm. 

The revelers, after a splendid feast of three 
hours were in fine shape for the intellectual ban- 
quet; for it is a well-known fact that the more 
wine a man takes at a banquet the better he is 
fitted to make a fool of himself, and flatter the 
vanity of the orators, who seemingly grow great, 
in their own estimation, in accordance with tlie 
volume of noise and so-called cheers they elicit by 
a burst of eloquence. 

After many toasts had been given. Generosity 
arose and announced as the last and most 
important one was Money, and called on Moses 
Frankenstein of Jerusalem to respond. Moses 
had been the banker of the Emperor for many 
years and the right bower of the secretary of the 
treasury. He stood in his socks five feet five, 
supported a "summer liead,'' with a long humped 
nose attached ; long chin, below a pair of narrow, 
thin lips, bony fingers, long legs and thick broad 



Rome and Its Power. 41 

feet. His steel gray eyes peered through glasses, 
while his face and l3row were deeply furrowed by 
the ploughshare of time. He could have been 
taken anywhere, without introduction, as a lineal 
descendant of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; and 
even in the dark, with no guide but his slow, 
sharp, economical voice, this relic of bygone age, 
would be known as of the race of the Wandering 
Jew, and the butt of persecution for all lands. 
He spoke as follows : My royal queen and my good 
friends, from the earliest dawn of creation, and 
the first wants of man, the generic Jew has been 
the pioneer of civilization, the molder of empires 
and the financial fulcrum for the lever of the 
world to rest upon. 

Wit. Three cheers and a tiger for the gentle- 
man from Palestine ! 

Frankenstein. Although persecuted by the 
Persian, the Turk, the Spaniard, the Eussian, the 
Roman, the German, the Briton, and even by the 
American, he yet thrives, keeps shop, store and 
bank, and is ready to trade with anybody for 
cash. 

You know full well, jny good friends, that 
while my irrepressible race has long been scat- 
tered over the earth, and is in the minority in most 
lands, yet our cash is always in the majority, and 
we force people, princes and potentates to beg 
at our banking houses for the means by whicii 
they exist in peace and triumph in war. Ferdi- 
nand and Isabella banished us from their domain 
for no other reason than to confiscate our lands 
and rob us of our jewels and money — all in the 
name of religion, but in reality for pure and sim* 



42 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

pie robbery, because they had the power to en- 
force their damnable edicts. 

A drunken gentile and playwright named Wil- 
liam Shakespeare, labeled me as Shylock, a miser 
and thief, because I loaned a bankrupt merchant 
Antonio three thousand ducats to keep him from 
prison for debt, and then, when I wanted my 
money as well as punish the spendthrift impostor 
for abusing me personally, the whole tribe of 
blackmailing lawyers, in conjunction with the 
court, made a ''combine" to rob me of the cash 
I had saved by prudence and economy. 

Wit. What about your friend Pontius Pilate? 

Frankenstein. I hope he is in as hot a place 
as you deserve to be. Pilate was a Eoman car- 
pet-bagger, and played the same cowardly judge, 
in the case of Christ, as the Duke of Venice did in 
my own case — both of them time-servers and 
sycophants for cash. 

^ Shakespeare, of course, was a great and won- 
derful writer, none having lived before or since, 
not even Donnelly or Bacon, who could hold a 
candle to his volcanic, illuminated, divine genius. 
But, many of the morals that he teaches might 
be relegated to the haunts of the scarlet woman 
and the garbage pile of licentious putrefaction. 
The idea of a man like him abusing me and my 
race and setting us up through the ages to be de- 
spised, for what? Nothing, but that I exacted 
absolute justice. 

Look at his record. A deer stealer, a poacher, 
a runaway, a truant horse holder, a supe at a 
theater, a tow^n bummer, a midnight tavern roys- 
terer, a noted roue, and *lie associate of such ip> 



Rome and Its Power. 43 

famous characters as Dame Quickly, Falstaff, and 
the royal murderer, Henry the Eighth. A fine 
quartette of social assassins ! There is not one 
of his plays or poems that does not refer to, or 
make an excuse for, either duplicity, drunken- 
ness or illicit love, and while he, in many in- 
stances, covers thcin up with the fine, honeyed 
touches of a great word painter, it is there, never- 
theless, blotching and disfiguring the logic and 
splendid philosophy he endeavored to instill into 
the human heart. 

Shakespeare has done more to injure the morais 
of mankind than all the men that ever wrote be- 
fore or since his time; and while he held up the 
looking-glass of vice for our abhorrence and de- 
testation, he knew full well that constant con- 
tact with temptation was the shortest route to its 
indulgence. 

My good friends, persecution always reacts 
upon the fool or tyrant that inaugurates it, and 
he who digs a pit for his brother generally falls 
into it himself. Some of the greatest and wisest 
men that have ever come into the world were 
Jews. Moses, Abraham, Solomon, David, Christ, 
Josephus, Jeremiah, Eothschild, Mendelssohn, 
Disraeli and Montefiore — men renowned for wis- 
dom, splendor, charity, wealth and statesmanship, 
were all Jews, and have left the imprint of their 
good works upon the pulsating tablets of human, 
hearts. Prejudice and persecution have ever fol-l 
lowed the climbing footsteps of the great and 
good, and the meanness and hate of little souls 
are inspired by seeing any one successful. 



44 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

''He ivlio ascends the mountain tops shall find 
The loftiest peaks most wrapped in clouds and 

snow; 
He who surpasses or subdues manhind. 
Must look dawn on the hate of those helowJ* 

Mr. Frankenstein sat down amid the wildest 
burst of applause, and the Emperor rose to close 
the banquet. The crown was placed upon his 
head; waving the golden rod he said: 

My loyal subjects, the advancing footsteps of 
the dawn shines lightly on the misty mountain 
tops, the arrows of brightness from the bow of 
Jehovah pierce my palace windows; the feathered 
tribe in my gardens twitter their morning praises 
to the rising sun; the glow-worm pales his in- 
effectual fires before the god of day; the plash 
of the fountains and the distant murmur of the 
Tiber warn us that another day gives us health 
and life. 

Rise, my faithful subjects, and let us drain 
the bowl of Bacchus to vengeance and desolation 
to the Northern Vandals, who refuse to obey our 
royal will. Another day, and my legions shall 
be climbing the steeps of the Apennines, with 
sword and torch devastating the fields and homes 
of the barbarian. 

A thunder of cheers greeted this pronuncia- 
mento, but just as the last echoes of the acclama- 
tion died away, a roar came up from the palace 
garden, rang along the shining halls and corri- 
dors, chilling the souls of the revelers by the wild 
cry of "theGoths, the Goths; they have forced 
the city gates ; they fire the churches, temples and 



B-ome and Its Power. 45 

towers, and swarm about the palace precincts !^' 
Generosity gave a nod and a wink to Wit and 
Despair, when they threw off their semblance of 
material humanity, plumed their wings, flew from 
the upper windoy>^s of the imperial capital, and 
did not cease soaring until they rested on a huge 
Alpine crag, miles away from Rome, where they 
paused for rest, to look back on a city in flames, 
and an Emperor and people put to the sword and 
reduced to ashes beneath the gorgeous buildings 
erected for pleasure and power. 

Luxury and avarice made these haughty Ro- 
mans weak; the spoils of nations pampered their 
pride; power and licentiousness made them vain, 
and these corroding qualities, combined with im- 
perial and imagined invincibility, finally invited 
the wild invaders and desperate hordes of hardy 
barbarians, who overran the "Eternal City," leav- 
ing it an emblem of desolation, where the bat, 
owl, cricket, viper and lizard reigned supreme, 
amid the tumble-down temples covered with vines, 
thistles and rag v/eeds, the only mementos of na- 
ture to murmur a requiem over the remains of 
buried glory ! 

Rome, personified, mi,ght exclaim with Lord 
Byron, 

What is the worst of woes that wait on age? 
What stamps the lurinJcle deeper on the brow? 
To view each loved one blotted from life's page. 
And be alone on earth as I am now. 



46 Brickbats and Bouquets. 



CHAPTER IX. 

ON THE WING TO VENICE, FLORENCE AND TARIS. 

Generosity. Onward, our work is not yet lin- 
islicd, pleasure and pain run side by side, as "a 
double team,'' and no one ever knew genuine 
happiness that did not know change. We'll wing 
away and glance at the crumbling monuments 
of mankind, deplore the bloody sacrifices inaugu- 
rated for their amusement and ambition, cauterize 
their living infidelities and search through the 
world for our brother. Truth, and sweet sister. 
Love. 

Look below; here is Venice and Florence in 
the glimmering distance. Venice was once the 
pride of the Adriatic, the grand mart of marine 
commerce, the royal seat of domineering doges, 
the site of splendid ]-)a1aces and sculptured bridges 
spanning liquid roads, where purple barges and 
golden gondolas, with merry revelers, heUl high 
carnival to the music of the lute, violin, harp 
and numdolin, accompanied by enchanting voices 
under the sensuous spell of summer moonbeams. 

Her glory is departed, and her treasures are 
lost in the secret caves where merry mermaids 
and old Neptune reign supreme. Her palaces, 
bridges, walls and marble docks are cracked and 
crumbled by the tearing tooth of time, and the 



To Venice, Florence and Paris. 47 

green slime and weeds of old ocean creep around 
the foundations of her former grandeur. The 
pigmy princes and the pitiful paupers that now 
inhabit these dilapidated homes, are but shiver- 
ing, Inimiliated remnants of their glorious and 
industrious progenitors. 

The modern Italian is but a grief to the intelli- 
gent traveler, when compared with those of an- 
cient days. As Goldsmith observes, 

Contrasted faults through all his manners reign. 
Though poor, luxurious; though submissive, vain; 
Though grave, yet trifling; zealous, yet untrue; 
And even in penance planning sins anew. 

Look for a moment at Florence, the home of 
ideal religion and art. It nestles along the wind- 
ing waters of the classic Arno, or shines with 
suburban homes, monasteries, churches and pal- 
aces, perched upon the green spurs of the rolling 
Apennines. Here Boccaccio and his beauties 
lived a life of intelligent love and pleasure, within 
hearing of the wild wail that rose from the plague- 
stricken city, as thousands of the fairest and best 
were left to rot in the streets, or be tumbled into 
improvised graves by hands that followed in quick 
succession. 

Here Galileo, Petrarch, da Vinci, Angelo, 
Medici, Titian and Dante, wrought for the ele- 
vation of the human race, and sacrificed their 
noble lives for Nature and her grand ideas. The 
Duomos and Santa Croce, the principal cathe- 
drals, built of variegated marble and lined inside 
with lapis-lazuli, jasper, onyx, and many other 



48 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

precious stones, containing statues and paintings 
by immortal masters whose bones now molder 
beneath the artistic memorials they designed and 
produced. 

In life these brilliant and glorious characters 
were pursued and persecuted by the ignorant 
and vulgar, because of the art and science they 
promulgated, and many of them were tortured 
or banished from their native land by tyrannical 
lords, dukes, princes and popes, who could not 
conceive or appreciate the rich treasures that lay 
concealed in the blazing brain of genius. And 
yet when their poems, music, paintings, statues, 
and temples were finished, and an admiring world 
knelt at the sacred shrine of originalit}^, then 
millions of florins were collected and appropriated 
by little official harlequins to erect memorial 
busts and statues, in marble and bronze, in cele- 
bration and deification of the very men they 
would have incinerated in life. Monuments in 
death, banishment and starvation in life. 

We will now circle away over the bright blue 
waters of the Mediterranean, gaze on the peaceful 
peasants of Lombardy, cross the towering sky« 
piercing Alps, and quietly descend to this modest 
French cottage, situated on the sluggish waters 
of the Seine, in sight of Paris, where we will 
resume our human peregrinations. This is the 
grand domain of the Duke Montcalm. 

Wit. I'm glad you reach earth occasionally, for 
I have been tramping on clouds so long, that I 
feel like a wandering wild goose, squawking 
at the world, and chasing stars for countless 
centuries. 



To Venice, Florence and Paris. 49 

Despair. Yes, and I feel like a war hospital, 
where fever, open wounds, broken bones and 
crippled soldiers invite my congenial and ever 
present friend. Death. 

Generosity. Oh, don^t. Death comes soon 
enough without courting and inviting its mys- 
terious association, and you must know that the 
coward dies a thousand times, through fear of the 
inevitable, while the brave and generous man only 
bows once to the fiat of Fate. 

Ah ! what a lovely scene lies here before us. 
Surely if pleasure can be found on earth, this 
quiet, peaceful home should be its abode. This 
peaked, straggling-gabled house, situated on the 
banks of a silver stream, margined by fragrant 
flov/ers, must be an emblem of heaven on earth, 
where sin and sorrow never come and whose in- 
m^ates rise and retire with the first and last notes 
of warbling birds. 

This is the land of Charlemagne, the hero of 
chivalry; the realm of Louis le Grande, whose 
luxury and infidelity undermined the state; the 
glory and grave of Napoleon, whose eagles tore 
out the entrails of Europe, to be in turn lacerated 
and expire at last, an exile, on the barren rocks 
of St. Helena. 

Yet with all the warning and desolation that 
man and his vaulting ambition brought on this 
nation, pride, pleasure and fantastic frivolities 
still prevail. 

''Gay, sprightly land of mirth and social ease. 
Pleased with thyself, whom all the world can 
please/* 



50 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

A knock at the cottage door disclosed to Gener- 
osity a family roonij with a tall young man con- 
fronting him, a woman about forty years sitting 
at the head of a table and a girl of twenty on her 
right, with a blooming boy of three years sitting 
on her left. The strangers were asked to take a 
seat and join the family at breakfast. Generosity 
introduced himself and companions to the home of 

PIERRE LAVELLE. 

Interchange of thought soon broke the icy crust 
of formality. It is a rare occasion when Gener- 
osity fails to generate affection and confidence, 
and at the present time the mother, for such was 
the lady at the head of the table, wished to un- 
burden her heavy heart to some one who could 
appreciate the pangs that grief brings in its 
gloomy train. 

Generosity inquired for the father of the house, 
but received an evasive answer ; yet was told that 
the family were about to visit him at the royal 
hospital situated inside the tall bleak walls of the 
Paris prison. 

The daughter, Lorain, was young, petite and 
sprightly. She dressed with neatness, but, at the 
same time, the startling colors of her garb and 
the profusion of jewelry indicated a mind prone 
to pleasure, love and admiration. And, after all, 
show me the woman, young or old, that is not 
subject to deep laid flattery and surface admi- 
ration. Nature marked Lorain in the mold of 
pouting passion, and art only added to the embel- 
lishment of her eccentric, dangerous charms. 



To Venice, Florence and Paris. 51 

While the family were preparing to visit the 
father in the prison hospital, a knock was heard 
at the door, and upon invitation a modest French 
lad about nineteen years of age entered, and was 
introduced to the strangers as De Voy de Lay. 
He was the only son of a modest silk weaver who 
lived adjoining the garden of the Lavelle home. 
His face was indicative of innocence, benevolence 
and confidence, and his mild blue eyes betokened 
a heart that had never been seared by sin, and 
a mind that loved the beautiful in nature. His 
bashful glances at Lorain bore the arrows of sor- 
row. 

De Voy and Lorain had been friends from 
childhood, chasing butterflies, culling flowers, 
and skipping hand in hand to the village school. 

The old bachelor, Duke Montcalm, had observed 
this happy pair as they roamed over his rich, 
ancestral domain, and often in his tour of inspec- 
tion, astride of his milk-white mare, met these 
loving children. He would condescend on 
occasions to stop and talk to the pair, compliment 
Lorain on her sprightly appearance, and the 
young man in having such a nice sweetheart. 
Sometimes he met Lorain alone, and on one par- 
ticular occasion, suggested that a Dolly Varden 
silk dress, pair of ear-rings and feathered bonnet 
would add to her natural beauty and enhance her 
importance in the eyes of the villagers, who are 
ever ready to laud the gaudy trappings of surface 
prosperity, at the expense of modesty, purity and 
real worth clad in honest linsey-woolsey. 

She, with feigned modesty, looked abashed at 
the Duke, sighed and said her father was only a 



52 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

poor artist and could not afford to give her the 
adornment the noble lord had suggested, although 
she, herself, would be delighted to secure the fine 
dressing. The old Duke, who was a noted gallant, 
intimated that it was easy for her to secure what 
she desired if she would call at the castle and 
present the card he extended with a gracious bow. 
As the Duke rode away, he waved his hand to the 
vain, foolish girl, throwing a playful kiss with 
the air of one who had already entrapped a foolish 
fly in the meshes of its glittering web. How 
many spiders through all the ages have thus en- 
tangled flitting flies in the fine spun gauze of their 
destructive flattery ! 

From that moment in the grand old forest, the 
head and weak heart of Lorain was turned and 
slie began to drift away from the honest love of 
her youth, to the gilded heights of fashionable 
fraud and ambition. 

De Voy could see a change in the conduct of 
his loved Lorain since the meeting with the Duke 
in the forest, and we know when the lurking devil 
of doubt once takes possession of the soul where 
love reigned, the victim, like a blasted ruin in the 
storm, can never be perfect again. 

These betrothed children, at the time of which 
we speak, were sixteen and seventeen, respectively. 
During the three subsequent years, sad and des- 
perate events transpired, which left in their wake 
wrinkles, shame, poverty and death. * * * 

The Lavelle family flnally prepared for perhaps 
the last visit to a husband and father, confined 
within the ponderous jaws of a somber prison 
that shone under the rays of the setting sun, on a 



To Venice, Florence and Paris. 53 

hill top, three miles away on the banks of the 
Seine. Generosity asked on behalf of himself 
and associates the privilege of accompanying the 
family to the bedside of the dying man. There 
was no objection. He stepped away to a wayside 
restaurant, across the road, purchased the best 
bottle of wine and basket of fruit in the house, 
and then joined the mournful train as they walked 
towards the prison in the gathering gloom of an 
autumn twilight. 

A pull at a bell-knob brought an armed sentinel 
to a huge iron gate. They were conveyed up 
many winding stone stairs, through long halls, 
until they were at last admitted to a room at the 
western angle of the prison hospital. The wife, 
son and Generosity passed on to the iron cot 
where the sick and dying man lay. The prison 
surgeon sat by his side noting the rise and fall 
of his heart as it beat against the mysterious 
shores of eternity. 

Lorain and child, De Voy, Wit and Despair, 
remained near the head of the cot, where the wan- 
dering eyes of the pale invalid could not see them. 

The departing rays of the sun lit up the gloom 
of the vaulted room with a glow of celestial light. 
Lavelle roused from his seeming stupor and rest- 
ing his eyes on his faithful wife, threw his arms 
around the being that had so often encouraged 
his ambition and consoled him in the darkest vale 
of adversity. The old-time smile returned, a 
flush came over his thin, pale face. Generosity 
grasped the hand of the dying man, exchanged 
a few words of sympathy and consolation, and 
asked the artist to tell him briefly the story of his 



54 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

life, that posterity might justify his action and 
Truth emblazon his fame. 

The idea of securing absolute or even compara- 
tive justice, on earth, had not entered the prison- 
er's mind until then. With a superhuman effort 
he related the following interesting story: 

Forty years to-day I was born in a small back 
brick court, under the shadow of Notre Dame, 
whose thunder tone bells awakened my first recol- 
lection. 

My father was an ornamental sign painter and 
also indulged in land, marine and figure painting. 

At the age of seven I was sent to the parish 
school, where theological students and priests im- 
parted to me the beauties of religion. 

I early betrayed the talent of drawing the faces 
of my schoolmates, daubing the distant land- 
scapes on pasteboard placques and sketching the 
rude statues that adorned the parks, gardens and 
buildings of Paris. When my father visited me 
I displayed these youthful efforts, to his astonish- 
ment and pleasure. At the age of fourteen I 
was apprenticed to an artist named David, 
who had a studio near the Louvre, and did 
a thriving business in portrait painting, some of 
the noblest men and women of the capital being 
his patrons. The old artist took a great pride in 
my welfare and often predicted that with strict 
application and patient study I would become a 
worthy disciple of Angelo and Eaphael. 

I remained in his employ for a term of three 
years, and was considered an expert in the details 
of my profession. 

It was my habit to rise with the sun^ and 



To Venice, Florence and Paris. 55 

saunter out into the cool pleasant parks of Paris, 
and feast my eyes on flowers and trees, or listen 
entranced to the ringing melody of bright birds. 
In one of my morning rambles I halted under a 
large, flowering orange tree in the Luxembourg 
garden, and lost in the realms of revery, gazed 
vacantly at the variegated scene before me, while 
the orchestra of tame and wild warblers filled the 
air with delicious harmony. 

I always carried in my pockets some grain or 
sweet nuts to entice the sparrows, black birds or 
robins to linger near and eat from my hand. 

Just across the gravel v/alk under another 
orange tree I beheld a fresh, blooming blonde 
feeding birds. They were gathered about her by 
the score and seemed to be perfectly at ease in her 
society. There w^as one robin red breast that 
would flit from my hand to that of the young 
lady, a kind of affinity messenger between hearts 
that loved at first sight. We could not help 
noticing the circumstance; but when the robin 
flew from my hand to that of the girl, who kissed 
the bird, I no longer hesitated in saluting the 
fascinating being who inspired love's young 
dream. She responded with a coquettish glance, 
and from that moment to this, Lorain, my dear 
wife, has been all the world to me. 

Lorain was the only daughter of a silk mer- 
chant who kept a fine establishment in the Latin 
Quarter. Our love soon ripened into intense pas- 
sion, romantic and ideal; and without her par- 
ents' knowledge we frequently met under flower- 
ing arbors, lunched at the rich cafes, attended 
the opera; or sauntereA through the fascinating 



56 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

haunts of the Mabile garden. Through some 
source the parents discovered our infatuation 
and secret meetings, and charged Lorain with 
duplicity and ingratitude, nnd peremptorily or- 
dered her to prepare at once for a trip to the 
Orient. 

In twenty-four hours tlie ehip would sail from 
Nice and she must be ready to accompany her 
fond parents. Lorain seemed to acquiesce in the 
programme, but I received this note, next to my 
heart, which speaks for itself: 

Hotel DeLisle, No. 13, 92. 
My own Pierre: 

My parents have discovered all. They accuse 
me of loving below my station, and have ordered 
me to sail with them to-morrow for Nice on a 
tour to the Orient, that may last two years. 

I shall not go, and if your asseveration of love 
is true and lasting, meet me to-night at 8 o'clock 
by the stone gate at the end of the garden, and 
make me yours forever. Reply to this immedi- 
ately, or never look upon my face again. 

Yours, until death, Lorain. 

I at once scribbled off this reply : 

Back Brick Coltrt, No. 3, 92. 
My own Lorain : 

I shall be with you at the time and place men- 
tioned, and arrange witli my parisli priest to tie 
the silken knot tliat shall bind us forever. 

Eternally, yours, Pierre. 

Promptly, as the clock in the citadel tower 
chimed, with its iron tongue and brazen lips, the 



To Venice, Florence and Paris. 57 

hour of eight I was under the passion flowers at 
the stone gate, and Lorain fell into my arms like 
a truant bird into the enfolding wings of love. 
An hour after we were married by my parish 
priest. 

"Noiseless falls the foot of time 
That only treads on flowers/* 

That night Lorain sat down and wrote: 

Back Brick Court, No. 3, 92. 
My dear Father: 

A few hours ago I was married to Pierre Lavelle, 
a young artist who lives at this address. 

Forgive my disobedience. I would rather die 
than marry your selection, the Duke Montcalm. I 
prefer to live a life of labor and even endure the 
pangs of poverty with the man I love than wear 
the cold jewels and gaudy purple that shine in the 
train of a Bourbon roue. 

Your naughty, but loving daughter, 

Lorain LeCroix. , 
Hon. Camille LeCroix, 

No. 13, Hotel DeLisle, Paris, France. 

When the old proud-blooded Bourbon read this 
at his breakfast table, he turned pale with grief 
and anger, fell from his seat to the floor, and was 
carried to his room, where he lingered with a para- 
lytic stroke for about a year, when he died. He 
never expressed a desire to see Lorain. When his 
will was opened it was found that his daughter had 
been disinherited, and her brother, Camille, made 
sole heir and proprietor of the immense wealth 
accumulated by care, prudence and economy. 



58 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

The mother died of a broken licart two years 
after the demise of the father, and while Lorain 
endeavored to see the aristocratic chime before her 
death, the brother, who h^ul married a hidy with 
a fortnne larger than his own, manipulated matters 
so adroitly that his sister never laid eyes on her 
mother, whose heart had been shattered by the im- 
pulsive, but natural conduct of a daughter who 
would not sell her body and soul to the pleas of 
wealth and ambition. 

I established a sl-idio in ihe skylight garret of 
my brick home, had all the orders 1 could fill, and 
was honorably mentioned and awarded medals 
from some of the b^st saloi^s of Paris. One of my 
pictures, a group of dancii-g fawns and nymphs in 
the groenv.ood, was exhibited in the Louvre, took a 
prize and was finally purel>:ised by the Duke de 
Beauregard. 

Portraits and landscape pictures brought me a 
steady income, and with my wife, son and daugh- 
ter we enjoyed the pleasures of this gay capital and 
retained the respect and love of our neighbors. 

Twelve years ago I sold my worldy goods in the 
little brick court and removed to the cottage from 
whence you came to-day. There I erected my 
household gods, and expected among fruits, flow- 
ers, birds and artistic friends to spend the remain- 
der of my life in peace and pleasure. I joined 
the social, political and philosophic clubs, and in 
time became a disciple of red hot Republicanism. 
In argument at the clubs I was considered a match 
for the best in debnte, and as my heart was natu- 
rally imbued with art and liberty, I took the most 
advanced steps with the radicals. 



To Venice, Florence and Paris. 59 

I would not, like most of mankind, ^'^crook the 
pregnant hinges of the knee, that thrift might 
follow fawning," and thereby, no doubt lost many 
material benefits that my subservient companions 
obtained. 

I calculated a God from my own standpoint, not 
taking the dictum of proxy preachers or princes for 
my own conclusions. I saw in the dew, rain, 
brook, river, valleys and mountains, seas and .stars, 
suns and storms, mere emblems of that Unknown 
Divinity that stirred within me. The creeds of 
pigmy men I could not harbor or entertain. The 
acceptance of theological truth in one century I 
knew was laughed to scorn and ridiculed in the 
next, and the religion manufacturers of mankind 
were as much at variance with themselves as the 
deluded, think less followers, who sang hosannas to 
their cupidity, arrogance, bigotry and imagina- 
tion. 

I did not find one of the tinkers hammering at 
the cracked, cast-iron pot of religion, that could 
tell me a single fact beyond the tomb ; and with 
all their boasted power and mysterious mummery 
— the moss-backed precedents of ages — the whole 
conclave put together could not make a blade of 
grass or save themselves from the terrible gloom 
of the grave. 

I can only feel that — 

A moment after death my soul shall he 
Free from the cruel chains of sordid earth. 
Still floating on some wild, chaotic sea 
As 'twas the moment of its unsought birth. 



6o Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Time grew on apace ; the river ran in freshness 
beside my cottage door; tlie flowers bloomed with 
sweetness in niy'little garden, and the spring birds 
built their nests and sang their melodious songs to 
greet the flashing footsteps of the dawn. 

When everything seemed to speak of peace and 
perfection my wife rushed into my studio one 
bright June morning, and demanded my immedi- 
ate presence in the room of our daughter. The 
scene that met my gaze stupified my understand- 
ing and unhinged the balance wheels of my brain. 
I upbraided I.orain with treachery, sin and shame, 
and demanded under pain of immediate death, the 
author of her disgrace and ruin — the name of the 
social assassin who had invaded the sacred precinct 
of my home. Between her heart-broken sobs and 
flowing tears she gasped out, ^^the Duke Mont- 
calm !" This was enough. I had lived on his 
estate four years, although he did not know that 
my wife was the woman who disdained to bestow 
upon him her heart and hand, preferring the hon- 
est love of a poor artist to the doubtful and change- 
able passion of an aristocratic roue. I flew to my 
cabinet, withdrew therefrom a brace of dueling 
pistols, charged them with care and precision, and 
rushed out into the grand old forest of the Duke 
Montcalm. 

Suddenly under a thick clump of overhanging 
walnuts, I beheld the Duke on his prancing pal- 
frey, enjoying his morning ride through his rich 
domain. He glanced at me with an aristocratic, 
sardonic leer, knowing that I was one of the nu- 
merous tenants on his estate. I stepped before 
his horse^ grasped the bridle, accused him of the 



To Venice, Florence and Paris. 6i 

desolation he had wrought on my household when, 
quick as a flash, he drew his shining side sword and 
aimed to cut me down, but ere his bright blade 
dealt the fatal blow, I raised my pistol, fired, sent 
a bullet through his corrupt heart and he fell a 
corpse at my feet 

I gazed intently into his pale face, convinced 
myself that he was dead, then turned away to the 
bustling rattle of Paris, sought the prefect of po- 
lice, told him the facts and was locked up to await 
indictment and trial. 

When the crunching and clanking sound of the 
prison gate sounded in my ear for the first time, I 
felt a sense of peace and consolation ; peace, that I 
was out of the reach of the vultures of society, and 
consolation that I had been the instrument of na- 
ture to wipe from the face of the earth a prowling 
tiger, who had no doubt desolated many homes be- 
fore mine had been invaded. The papers of Paris 
were filled with long and lying accounts of what 
they termed a dastard assassination. 

I was promptly placed in the dock. The judge 
asked if 1 had any counsel. I replied in the nega- 
tive, stating that what little money I had saved 
from honest toil, must go to the support of my 
famity, instead of filling the fat pockets of pros- 
perous lawyers, who grow rich and haughty by the 
foolish credulity, contention and crimes of man- 
kind; a class of cormorants that live on the mis- 
fortunes of poor human nature. 

I was then asked to plead to the indictment, 
ch&rging me with the murder of the Duke Mont- 
calm. I rose and made a statement of the whole 
case to the jury, saying if they consideerd it mur- 



62 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

'der to kill a wolf ^^•ho had invaded the virtuous 
precincts of their homes, then I was guilty of the 
charge. 

The attorney-general made a long speech in re- 
ply, trying to show that I was one of the worst men 
that ever lived, and that the Duke was a perfect 
eaint. 

The ladies and gentlemen in the body of the 
courtroom, as well as those spectators in the gal- 
lery, and the members of the bar, murmured a 
cheer for the great wisdom of the j^udge's charge, 
when his honor, reluctantly no doubt, ordered the 
bailiff to preserve "silence in the courV'' and check 
the enthusiasm his instructions had caused. 

The jury returned with a verdict of "guilty," 
but at the same time recommended me to the 
mercy of the court and the clemency of the crown, 
owing to certain justifiable and mitigating cir- 
cumstances connected with the case. 

I was remanded to prison for ten days until 
the court and crown considered the expediency of 
sending me to prison for life or to the guillotine 
for eternity. The death verdict was finally set 
aside, and I was called to be sentenced for life at 
hard labor. 

The judge asked me what I had to say before 
the sentence of the court was pronounced. 

I arose, the central object of all eyes in that 
crowded court ; and feeling in my heart of hearts 
that I had only j^erformed a just act, sjDoke as fol- 
lows : 

Your honor, I have nothing to say that will 
change the conclusions of the court and crown. A 
jackal came prowling about my home and I killed 



To Venice, Florence and Paris. 63 

him, and under like circumstances I would be de- 
lighted to slay a thousand of such midnight prowl- 
ers and leave their corrupt carcasses to fester and 
bleact on the hillsides of France. 

I stand here to-day, strong and bold in conscious 
innocence, and instead of receiving the rebuke of 
society, I should be released, awarded praise and 
the highest commendation for my heroic act. My 
heart was actuated by the nojjle impulse that 
nerved Yv^inkelreid, when he opened a breach for 
the liberty of his country, or by that lofty courage 
that inspired Socrates when he drank the hemlock 
to the immortality of the soul. 

For myself, I have no fear of punishment, yet, 
in behalf of my past good character, this being 
the first suspicion of guilt that ever darkened 
my life, and in consideration of the support I owe 
my wife and children, I ask that magnanimity 
at this bar of justice that would be reasonably 
claimed by yourself under like circumstances. A 
few short years will sepulchre the living of to-day 
with the dead of yesterday, and the celestial sun- 
light of to-morrow will bring us all to the bar of 
omnipotence, where the judge, jury, lawyer and 
client will meet upon the level of eternity and part 
upon the square of final judgment. Then all 
hearts will be laid bare and truth will rise in mag- 
nificent triumph. 

The blood of conscious innocence flows free and 
unruffled through this frame, and the terrors that 
surround the victims of designed crime, find no 
lodgment in my heart. 

The walls that hemmed in Galileo, Columbus 
and Tasso did not measure the minds of the men. 



64 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

It is true their bodies suffered some torture, but 
the proud spirits that rose in their hearts leaped 
the bounds of clay and soared away into the 
illimitable regions of science and poetry. Humble 
as I am in the walks of life, my soul is" inspired by 
their illustrious example; and it shall be my fu- 
ture endeavor to show the world that although I 
may suffer for a time the penalty of outraged pas- 
sion and nature, yet, like a mountain crag, I shall 
breast the pelting storms of life, lift my head, 
clear and bold to the coming sunshine of Truth 
and celestial redemption. 

At the conclusion of my defense I was im- 
mediately sentenced for life to the gloomy sur- 
roundings of this prison ; and now you see me wast- 
ing away with mental anxiety and consumption, 
the victim of my own desperation, the destroyer 
of the dastard duke, but the defender of virtue and 
my deluded daughter, Lorain. 

At the mention of Lorain, she flew to the bed- 
side of her father, grasped his hand and exclaimed, 
"father, forgive me." The dving man sank back 
on his pillow, glanced about the room with a 
vacant, lunatic stare, involuntarily placed his right 
hand on the head of his daughter, and, with his 
last gasp, finally whispered, ''forgiven," and then 
Pierre Lavelle was dead. 

He ceased and sank into the gloom of night, 
And left behind no ray of cheering light. 
While all his conversation did hut seem 
The vestige of a vain and vanished dream. 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 65 



CHAPTER X. 

LONDON, ITS GUILT AND GLORY. 

Generosity. Well, my waggish Wit, it is proper 
that we fly on the wings of thought, and leave 
our attachment. Despair, to pine and mourn with 
the French family, who are really the victims 
of thoughtlessness, indiscretion and passion. I, 
myself, have been prone through all the ages, to 
commit, unintentionally, many outlandish acts, 
for which I have suffered uncomplainingly. My 
^'friends" and neighbors would often look askant 
at my, seemingly, wayward course and deplore the 
conduct that gossips dished up for their edifica- 
tion. But I knew, as I have said before, when my 
impulsive acts, night and day, were compared with 
tlicir own politic secretiveness, a large credit mark 
would be placed opposite my name by the record- 
ing angel, who knows all hearts, and that their 
plastic, bated-breath propriety would be set down 
under the heading of discreet hypocrisy. 

I once loved a beautiful girl myself. How I'd 
fondle and tangle my hands in her hair. 

Ah! how the evening air expands my wings, 
invigorates my heart, the smell of this narrow 
salt sea evaporates for my pleasure. Look how 
the rolling, verdant' waves sparkle "iitlder the lu- 



66 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

niinoiTS footsteps of the rising moon, and answers 
back the screech of the wild sea mew; how the 
gathering, shifting clouds, bright and black, mir- 
ror themselves in the troubled features of the 
sounding sea; and the concave, universal sky 
ushers forth its myriad of stars as altar candles 
around the throne of the great Jehovah ! 

Listen to the roar of the troubled channel as 
it lashes the sides of these chalk cliffs that have 
withstood the rage of old ocean since the dawn 
of creation. Away, over rolling hills, green 
meadows and silver streams, to that murmuring 
multitude of human mayflies, who have buzzed 
their way all over the world and planted their 
standard of trade, language and liberty wherever 
man could be found. All nations have heard the 
conquering footsteps of old Albion, and while her 
brutality has often disgraced the civilization of 
the age, her sway has, in the long run, advanced 
the arts and sciences, propelled forward the lazy 
car of progress, and lifted nations of barbarians 
up to the plane of Christian charity. 

Hark ! methinks I can hear the voice of Truth 
and Love discoursing amid these crowded streets 
below; and as the yellow glare of corner lamps 
emit an aroma not of Araby, I can yet discern 
through the clouds of smoke the various haunts 
of virtue, vanity and vice. Here, once more, on 
the crumbling arches of London bridge, we will 
follow in the wake of the jostling throng, see, hear 
and feel what the hearts of men and women con- 
jure up and promulgate. 

Truth. Ah! my dear Generosity, we've met 
again. You must have had some strange ex- 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 67 

periencGs since last we met. Where are your 
companions, Wit and Despair? 

Generosity. Here comes Wit through the 
crowd, wearing his cap and bells as usual, trying 
to make a fool of himself for the edification of the 
imthinking rabble; but it is a severe task, as the 
more he attempts to act the fool the more is his 
failure apparent to the wise. He knows full 
well that the philosopher, who can disguise his 
own real thoughts behind a misty haze of un- 
meaning words, will finally "work" those who take 
him for a fool, and accompji^^h by indirection what 
he could not do by direct assault. 

I left Despair at the bedside of death in a 
prison in Paris, bewailing with a French family 
that had been brought to disgrace and ruin by 
the sin of disobedience and unbridled passion. 

Truth. My own sweet Love, how have you 
fared since we last met on the towering heights 
of mount Olympus ? 

Love. With my companions, Hope and sar- 
donic Hate, I lingered a few days at Constanti- 
nople, sailed on the sea of Marmora, rode in the 
Sultan's galley through the Golden Horn, visited 
the grand mosques, listened to the muezzin call the 
hour of prayer from the tapering towers and min- 
arets and feasted in sumptuous style at the royal 
harem. I soon tired of the languor, jealousy and 
brutality that prevailed over everything, from 
the poor home of the peasant to the pinnacled 
palace of the prince. The dark spots on the soul 
of these Orientals, and their daily life of idleness 
and passion, guarantee a sure decay of the king- 
dom; and like the smallpox, black yomit and 



68 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

cholera, when once allowed to spread, never fail 
to obliterate the objects of their attack. A few 
years will erase from the earth the memory of 
these torrid Turks, and some northern nation, 
with the vitality of the frozen zone, will sweep 
over their plains and mountains, leaving their 
fields and cities in ruin and ashes, and their mar- 
ble shrines of worship, heaps of undistinguished 
rubbish. After leaving Constantinople, I re- 
mained a few days at Moscow, the ancient capital 
of the Muscovites, a line of wild freebooters, and 
the coronation city of the Czars. The memorials 
of Ivan the Terrible, Paul the Insane, Peter the 
Great, and Catherine the Passionate, are seen on 
every turn; yet the advancement, in real civili- 
zation and genuine liberty, of the scattered hordes 
of Russia, along the pathway of a thousand years, 
has been slow, uncertain and unavailing to the 
great masses, who are still but ignorant boors, 
shouldering the burdens of life for a few reign- 
ing families, whose ancestors secured dominion by 
the torch, lance, cleaver and bullet, and conquered 
like any other band of robbers that had the brutal 
power to murder their fellow-men. 

I reined up the steeds of my imagination on 
the bleak and sterile mountains of Siberia, after 
a flight of five thousand miles over snowy plains 
and interminable forests. Scattered over thou- 
sands of miles you behold small towns, filled with 
ini^ risoned exiles, doomed to long years of dreary, 
cruel labor, or a life of banishment, for no other 
reason than that of rebelling against the out- 
rageous exactions and persecutions that bloated 
tyranny inaugurates. 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 6^ 

Here you see men and women of education from 
Moscow, St. Petersburg and other cities of the 
Russian empire, driven together into the deep, 
darl^ mines of the Ural mountains, delving night 
and day for iron, copper, silver, gold and dia- 
monds. These unfortunate people were once en- 
joying the luxuries that wealth and power com- 
manded, and many of them were borne on the 
rolls of the nobility, serving in the navy, army on 
civil lists of the empire. But, for some reason, 
they were suspected of conspiring against the 
powers of state, in the interest of a broader lib- 
erty ; and it is a well-known fact that a person once 
suspected in Eussia by the Argus-eyed police, 
might as well deliver himself up to imprisonment 
or exile, for the judiciary of that unlimited mon- 
archy is but the mouthp^'iece of the Czar, and the 
pliant tool of state officials. 

The path of progress, however, cannot be al- 
ways impeded by the bowlders that tyrants tumble 
into the road; and while it rises and sinks like a 
mountain highway, it steadily tends to the top, 
and sooner or later reaches the highest point in 
the peak, where the weary traveler can look back 
with pride and supreme satisfaction over the wind- 
ing declivities he has scaled to the heights ot 
Freedom. 

The knout, the prison, exile and the scaffold 
will continue for many years yet to punctuate the 
policy of Russian monarchs towards their suffering 
subjects ; just as sure as the sun shines and eternal 
justice reigns, these instruments of tyraimy shall 
be but the stepping stones to the tall temple of 
Liberty, and the altars around which the martyrs 



JO Brickbats and Bouquets. 

of Freedom swing the incense of patriotism and 
truth. 

I dropped in at the Winter Palace of St. Peters- 
burg, where suspicion, fear and remorse kill sleep, 
appetite and pleasure. Here you find brutality 
and tyranny wrapped in furs and feeding on the 
wages of misfortune and crime. Bloated and 
swelling, like the toad, but with extension and 
distention, approaching that sure collapse and dis- 
integration always following pride and excess. 

I ordered Hope to remain for a season with the 
Czar Hate, thinking that some light of truth and 
justice might flash across his mind, and induce 
him to lift the yoke off the necks of millions of 
Eussian oxen. 

Truth. I, too, have had a sad and checkered 
experience. I stopped, in my wanderings, a short 
time to view the ancient city of Nazer, buried 
millions of years ago for the sin of ingratitude, 
and I v/as so pestered with your sister. Envy, and 
my half-brother. Hypocrisy, that I winked at my 
master, Fate, who buried them beneath an ocean 
of impalpable dust. 

In this great city I expect to find better things, 
where pride and selfishness keep in the back- 
ground, and modest worth receives the honor of 
the state. Eighteen hundred years ago, I stood 
on the site of this bridge as the slow current of 
the sluggish stream ran amid the virgin meadows 
and forests to the sea. 

The Roman, the Pict, the Celt, the Saxon, the 
Dane and the Norman have swept in turn over 
these hills, vales and streams in search of booty, 
beauty and glory. Perhaps there is no spot on 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 71 

earth of equal dimensions that has suffered from 
the ravages of man, in his eternal search for gold 
and power, more than the islands of EngJjind, 
Scotland and Ireland. 

Hark ! the clock in the tall tower has just struck 
one; its sonorous, ponderous tongue reverberating 
over the sleeping cit}^ like the wail of a lost angel. 
What a time for contemplation! These crooked 
streets, stores, taverns, clubs and homes now al- 
most silent of human life, a few hours since were 
teeming w^th the chatter of shop-keepers, the 
music of strolling bands and theatrical orchestras, 
the story and songs of club men, the rattle of the 
dice box; the maudlin argument of the drunkard, 
the sneaking footsteps of the robber and the sharp 
shot of the assassin as he flew away from the 
precinct of his fallen victim. 

Those poor creatures that now make their beds 
in doorways, cellars, under carts, or in store boxes, 
are endeavoring to rest their weary hearts on the 
lower round of the human ladder, and are far more 
miserable than the inmates of Newgate or Port- 
land, who at least have shelter and food provided 
by the state. They have known happier days, and 
if you will only listen to their tale of woe your 
heart, although hard and proud, may melt at the 
recital of their misfortunes. 

"Teach me to feel another's woe. 
To hide the faults I see. 
That mercy I to others shoii}. 
That mercy show to me." 



72 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Ah sir, said the poor wretch, Dan Derange, who 
quoted this couplet, if you only knew what I have 
suiTcred for my friends and country, you wouhl 
have more charity for my ragged, forlorn and nar- 
tially inebriated condition. 

Truth. Tell me your history. 

1 was born on the estate of Lord Lucan, near 
Manchester, my father being an old retired soldier, 
the game-keeper and general manager of the do- 
main. 1 was an only son and had but one sister,' 
*'Bet," two years younger than myself. We went 
to the parish school and passed through the rudi-', 
ments of a good English education. At the age 
of seventeen T was sei\t by the inlluence of Lord 
Tjuean to Oxford, where I soon took a stand as a 
boy of rare "genius.'' That's wdiat they said about 
me, although I have since learned to my sad exi)eri- 
ence, that a "genius" is another num's amusing 
fool, his own worst enemy, fed by the flattering 
food of inordinate vanity and a probable subject 
for suicide and the potter's field. 

At the age of twenty-one I took the degree of; 
A. B. and M. A., secured a premium of twenty 
pounds for excellence in elocution, and carried 
away the gold medal for poetry, even in a class of 
thirty-three. My sehoolnuites and the professors 
predicted for me a career of great renown, ami 
wdiether I should pursue the profession of medi- 
cine, divinity or law, was the only quandary with 
my father and Lord Lucan, my patron and friend. 

After roaming about among neighboring friends 
for a year, kee})ing u}) the convivial habits I con- 
tracted in college and getting into a few scrapes 
and brawls around the ale-houses, taverns and 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 73 

clubs of London, I finally, in a fit of remorse and 
almost despair, enlisted in the *^Blues," and was 
sliipi)ed oir with the regiment to Bombay and Cal- 
cutta, India. 

I wrote the following to my dear, old, indulgent 
father, who thought that the sun rose and set 
around my wandering footsteps, and that even the 
position of prime minister would not be too great 
for a man of my "genius'^ to occupy and adorn : 

"Your wayward and erratic son has this day en- 
listed in the 'Blues,' and ere this note reaches you 
I will be on the bounding billows of the ocean, for 
Bombay, India. Forgive this rash act, give my 
best friendship to Lord Lucan and my everlasting 
love to my sweet sister 'Bet;' and over my moth- 
er's grave plant, at once, the inclosed white rose 
root, that it may bloom and exhale its sweetness 
towards her home in heaven, and also be a slight 
remembrance of the love of your wayward son, 

"Dan." 

For the term of nearly five years I marched, 
camped and fought from the sea to the plains, 
jungles and mountains of India, with both man 
and beast. My rashness and hair-broadth escapes 
were the talk of the regiment and brigade; and 
even my perilous and peculiar deeds found praise 
in public orders, and I was awarded medals for 
gallantry by the hand of vice-royalty itself. Pro- 
motion came in regular, continuous grades, cor- 
poral, sergeant, lieutenant, and finally a captaincy 
for meritorious gallantry at the ford of the upper 
Ganges, when I was first man to cross the river in 
face of the enemy, tie a rope to a tree and makp 



74 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

it feasible to ferry over llio nrlillei-y on rafts. At 
this figlit I was shot in ilie left npper arm, and 
lay in a liospital a month. When I reeovered, I 
took command of my company and participated in 
the storming of a fort near Ijucknow. Here I was 
shot in the right leg below the knee and was again 
laid np in hospital for two months. 

As soon as I eonld travel, 1 reqnested to be sent 
to my regiment, serving near the headwaters of 
the Indus and witliin the plague district bordering 
on the Canges. It was said to be sure death to 
venture inside the plague range, and those who had 
the misfortune to be stationed in those terrible 
regions of death were left without succor by those 
even of their comrades, who (led from the scourge 
at the first simoon of the black disease, and barely 
escaped the sorrowful fate that beset thousands of 
the bravest British soldiers. 

I was dissuaded from going by the hosjiital sur- 
geon, and even the commander of the district at 
Delhi forbade any one from coming out or going 
into the plague country, a very charnel house of 
death. But the very danger and the forbidding 
orders were enough to induce me to try ana make 
mv way to my own command at all hazards. 
Through the connivance of an old official friend, 
I finally secured the -jn-ivilege of carving dispatches 
to the connnander of the garrison, in the ]dague 
district. T procured a fine, fleet horse, secured ion 
days' cooked provisions, strapped it to my noble 
steed, and as the sun rose over the Oriental spires 
of Delhi, I rode away, alone, on my perilous jour- 
ney to the land of death. 

Through field and valleys, over hills and strcaiv^ 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 75 

forest and jiuigle, I kept my course, and after 
twelve days of tlie most excruciating hardship in 
sun, rain, wind and sand storm, I drew up at the 
head(|uarters of the garrison, where the cross of 
St. George and the Union Jack floated from the 
large government house, surrounded by long bar- 
racks, tliat had more the a])pearance of mammoth 
Collins than liabitations of living men. 

At this same phice in tlie past, Clive, Tjovelace, 
Haveloek, C^artigan, Hastings, Hamilton, Peel, 
Kaglan, i^ipon and a long line of civil ami mili- 
tary men of l^]ngland, wrought out the conquest of 
India, through the real heroes of the army, and 
molded a land of heathens and pagans into the 
lights and highways of Christianity. 

The commander of the garrison was delighted, 
and yet surprised to sec me. But when I deliv- 
ered my dispatches and he read them, a flush of 
pride came over liis weather-beaten face and he 
extended his hand to welcome me to the feast of 
death that was being enacted that very day under 
the rafters of the long and broad cavalry school 
adjacent to the fort. An orderly put up my horse, 
and as the sun was dipping behind the Himalaya 
mountains, flooding the vale of Cashmere with itt^ 
torrid rays, I was ushered into the cavalry building, 
where I beheld a sight that would chill and freeze 
a heart even stronger and more desperate than my 
own. (fathered about an oblong, half circle table 
sat in ghost-like array, nearly a thousand men, 
the remnant of- a division of ten thousand that 
had passed over the river of time by the unerring 
wcnipon of the black plague. The table was loaded 
down with all kinds of good army provisions^ and 



76 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

even vegetables from the garrison gardens were 
plentiful. At each man's plate was placed a bottle 
of brandy, a bottle of porter, a bottle of ale and 
a stone jug of water. I took a seat on the left 
of the commander, after he had introduced me to 
the assembled soldiers. There were but a few of 
the "Blues" that I recognized, the most of the men 
being of other regiments, who had thus far es- 
caped the scythe of the great destroyer. 

The General read to them the dispatches I had 
brought him from Delhi. It was enough to blot 
out all hope of aid from the rear and convince all 
present that the angel of despair had settled over 
them with his black wings, never more to permit 
a ray of hope to enter their souls. 

The dispatch said: 

"General: The bearer. Captain Dan Derange, 
has sacrificed his own life, in communicating from 
me to you the sad but fearful intelligence that you 
and your men cannot be relieved from duty at 
your present post, and you must hurrah for the 
flag of Old Albion, and die like men ! 

"Signed, Howard^ 

"Governor of India." 

A loud cheer rang through the building, and 
the walls and rafters seemed to echo back the 
laughing wail of these patriotic men. 

When the cheering ceased, the General re- 
quested Captain Dowling, a gallant officer and 
brilliant poet, to sing a song, and he immediatel}' 
improvised 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 77 



THE SONG OF THE DYING. 

It ran, as I remember, as follows: 

We meet, 'neatli the sounding rafter. 

And the walls around are hare; 
As they echo the peals of laughter 

It seems that the dead are there; 
But stand to your glasses, steady ^ 

We drifih to our comrades' eyes; 
Qu/iff a cup to the dead already. 

And hurrah for the next that dies! 

Time ivas when we frowned at others. 

We thought ive ivere wiser then; 
Ha! Ha! let those think of mothers 

Who hope to see them again. 
No, stand to your glasses, steady. 

The thoughtless are here the tvise, 
A cup to the dead already, 

HuiTali for the next that dies! 

There's many a hand that's shaking. 

There's many a cheek that's sunk, 
But soon, though our hearts are breaking. 

They'll burn with the wine lue've drunk; 
So stand to your glasses, steady, 

'Tis here the revival lies. 
A mug to the dead already 

And hurrah for the next that dies! 

Who dreads to the dust returning? 

Who shrinks from the sable shore? 
Where the high and haughty yearning 

Of the soul shall sting no more ? 



78 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

II o! stand to your glasses, steady. 

This ivorld is a world of lies. 
A cup for the dead already, 

Hurrah for the next that dies! 

Cut off from the land that hore lis. 

Betrayed hy the land ive find. 
Where the brightest has gone before lis 

And the dullest remain behind: 
Stand, stand to your glasses, steady, 

^Tis all ive have left to prize : 
A cup to the dead already. 

And hurrah for the next that dies! 

As tho last notes of iliis lioroie sonc^ diod away 
the men sank in Humi* seals, and scores of iliem 
seomod to be iaken with the crajnps and unnsiial 
contortions, their faces tnrninp; as bhick as ink, 
iheir eyes gharing in wild delirium and sinking 
in the arms of death where they sat. As soon as 
a man breathed his last, the surgeon and hospital 
corps were ready to carry him out to the long, 
dec^p pit, where he was laid away forever with- 
out ceremony. 

The banipiet lasted three days after my arriA'al, 
and when T departed there were only three living 
mortals h^ft out of the whole garrison that origi- 
nally comprised ten thousand men. And the fate 
(^f this garrison was only a counterpart of others 
through India. Why T was saved I know not, 
unless it was that as T finished one bottle of brandy 
1 called for another, and in the three days T 
must have consumed thirty bottles in my utter 
recklessness and defiance of death. While he 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 79 

shook his bony fingers at me in the cold, pale and 
black visages of my companions, I laughed at his 
butcheries and scorned his momentary mercy. 

Surgeon Howard, of the Buffs; Corporal Trigg, 
of the Artillery, and Sergeant Nelson, of the 
Dragoons, accompanied me in my return to Delhi. 
As we turned our })acks on the desolated build- 
ings with a train of starving, wailing dogs at our 
heels, find ckmips of dead horses everywhere, with 
the British Hag lazily Happing in the warm wind 
over the moldering remains of our gallant com- 
rades, our hearts sunk within us. As we took a 
last long and lingering look at the melancholy 
scene, we beheld in each other's eyes the streaming 
language of tears, elocjuent with the remembrance 
of what might have been. 

We had been on the road only one day when 
the surgeon suddenly turned black, fell off his 
horse and died with a faint groan. Two days 
later the sergeant died, and the day before I 
arrived at the capital, the poor corporal, while 
taking our morning rations at a spring by the 
waysid(!, began to shiver, extended his hand, said 
"good-by," and died. 

When I reported to headquarters the fate of the* 
devoted garrison, there was consternation in the 
city ; and a loud wail went up from the well-spring 
oflVritish hearts that even to this day can be 
heard echoing through the ranks of the brave and 
true who die at their post of duty rather than 
desert country, home and honor. 

I was tlie lion of Delhi for weeks and months, 
and although but a nucleus of my regiment re- 
mained, I wished to wait for its recruiting season. 



8o Brickbats and Bouquets. 

I was givon a commission to fill up the depleted 
ranks. But my old major, Kelly by name, was 
terribly alTronted at my taking the glory away 
from himself. One night, in a drinking bout, I 
upbraided the major for sneaking away from our 
command when the plague began, although he 
claimed to have orders to report at the capital for 
some purpose. In the quarrel he drew a knife, 
rushed at me like a tiger, but ere he could do his 
murderous work I sent a bullet through his brain 
and landed him on the shores of eternity. 

I was arrested, tried by court-martial for mur- 
der, and condenmed to be shot. The major was 
of a very inQuential family, and the general com- 
manding the district was his distant relative. I 
had no one, as I thought, to speak in my behalf, 
and so my trial was short, sharp and decisive. 
However, my sad condemnation was brought to 
the ears of the crown by l^ord Toucan, my old 
Manchester patron ; and after a deal of red tape 
and a hunt for my record as a brave soldier, my 
sentence was commuted to one year's work on the 
fortifications with ball and chain, and then dis- 
missal from the service. This w^as not quite as 
bad as being shot down like a dog for killing a 
coward in self-defense; but really the humiliation 
of attaching a ball and chain to my leg and work- 
ing me ])efore the public in that plight was a daily 
death to my innate pride, and 1 can assure you 
that a shot through the heart on the field of battle 
would have been a thousand fold preferable. 

^ly year of penal servitude expired in due course 
and I was turned out into the world almost naked 
and penniless. I drifted down to Bombay by easy 



London, Its (inill and Glory. 8i 



hIji^ms, vvoi'kin^' my vvny (liroii^li I he Ihii'vcmI, liclds, 
.'mkI (loiiii,^ vvliiil, J could lo prociiiv food iiiid hIicI- 
(cr. In (lie coiirHc of Ji few weeks I uiTived in 
lli(! eily, Jiiid round nhoul tli(^ Ijiverns niid alo- 

llOllHl'H HOirU! of ill(! tlKMl wIlO llJld Ix'CII VV 1 1 ll IIK! itl 

llie "Mines." 'rin'.y liud MU'ved oul (Jicii- (ini(! 
and, like ill! advcnl nrers, were spendin;^^ (heir hjK^k 
|)ay like lords, not earin^^ wlinj lo-niori'ow nii^'liL 
hrin^^ forlli, knowing tlial when all else failecl ili(!y 
could ship as eoinnion sailors or rc-eidisi as V(;t- 
eran soldiers. 

The few |)ounds I had in my pocket were soon 
sf)enl vi(!in<^^ wilh old comrades in Ihc; vain elVort 
of keepini,' up a hold, liheral fronl, in llw shadow 
of impeeuniosily and \\\o. /^dooin of despair. If 
you have ever hccii in a forei^ni land wilhoul a 
penny in youi- pocisci, oi- a real f'rirnd, y(Mi nuiy 
ima^nne my silualion and sympallnzi^ wilh my 
misrorlunes. 

Ono mornini.^ as IIk; rays of (he hoi, sun ros(; 
over Ihe s]iand)lin;^^ shaiHies and pi'elenl.ious nuin- 
sions of liomhay, I strolled down lo IIm; docks, 
where ships and lla<^^s of all nations lloaled on tin; 
houndin;^^ swells of tli(^ Ai'ahian sea, Ihrowii oti 
(he shore fi-oni Ihe i-ollin;^^ hillows of (he Indian 
Ocean. 

I was dry, liiin^Ty and sad, and snzin/]^ aloTipj 
(he harhor for some outlet (o my misery, I heheld 
a line ship llyin;^ (he Union ,)ack, and seennni^ly 
anxious, from (he llaj) of her sails, to escape from 
her moorini^s and swini( away inio luu* natural 
elemen(,. I rushed u]) (h(? ^;an/^^-pla(d< and in- 
(piired for the ollicer on duly. TIk! tirst mnU* 
came lo the forecast le and iiKpiired my husiiujsrt 



82 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

aiul desire. 1 told him inily, in short terms, my 
condition and olTercd myself as a common sailor 
to perform any duty that he might reqnire. Ho 
turned ahoul for a few moments, consulted with 
another oflieer, and ordered me to come aboard. I 
did so, and soon after signed some kind of a con- 
tract and was then assi^-ned to a mess of three 
other nuMi, wluM'e T found ])lenty of food, and was 
shown to a bcM'lli where 1 mi»;-ht repose when oil 
duly. 

MMk^ ship was freij^jhled with tea, spices, gold, 
sil\(M- jind I'are jewels from the rich mines of 
India. It was bound for London, had but five 
])assiMii;{M-s ami tAventy-fivo of a crew, thirty lunnan 
beings in all, including myself. In the evening a 
shar}) wind blew from the shore, the tide arose 
uiih imperee])tible, mammoth volume, and as the 
stars shone out in myriad baltalions, we sli))]HHl 
our cable, hoisted our anchor and, amid the labor- 
ing sound of pulleys, tackles, ropes and shifting 
sails, commingled with the rhythmic voices of old 
Jack Tars, we bore away to the rolling waves of 
the Indian Ocean and the Mediterranean. 

We were only three days out when my bad luck 
b(>gan. The second mate, who was a natural brute, 
and ignorant of all things save those included in 
seafaring life, took a particular aversion to mo. 
Perha])s the cause was my superiority in telling a 
story when off duty, reciting a poem, or singing 
a song, neither of which he could do. At least I 
felt his enmity on all occasions when he ha})pened 
to command my watch. The night of the third 
day, before dawn, I was called on watch, and as 
I did double duly the evening before in a sliarp 



London, Its Guilt and Glory, 83 

gale, was tired and slow in gelling out oi! my 
bunk. When I came on deck, he gave a growling 
curse like the roar of a hungry bear, and at the 
same time knocked me with his fist against the 
.{'ore mast and almost iumbUHl me down the hatch- 
way, all in tlie presence of my messmates. This 
was too much I'or my J^rilisli blood. .1 arose as 
soon as my dizzy condition would permit, grabbecl 
a convenient marlin spike; and gave him a blow 
()V(>r Ihe head and shoulder that S(Mit him spinning 
and sprawling on the slippery deck. 

The captain happened to be passing, and by his 
orders I was put in irons, rushed below into a 
l)la('k hole, wlu're I remained willnrnt food, water 
or light, for twenty-four hours. The tra]) to this 
airless hole was finally opened and, more dead 
than alive, I was taken to the mainmast, where 
a. brute was ordered to tie me u]) and give me 
thirty-nine lashes on the bare back for mutiny. 

Tlie sun, like a ball of fire, was rising out of its 
(H'can balh, the sea gulls were wheeling their flight 
in midair, the stormy petrels were rocking on the 
foamy waves, the porpoises were showing their 
shining backs in sj)ortive mood through their liipiid 
world, and all natun^ seemed to be at ])eace and 
rest but me. 

As the whiz of the lash warned me of th(^ im- 
pending blow, T shudd(M"('d at th(» thought of my 
de(>p humiliation and shame; but only three of the 
thirty-nine liishes had scarred my back, when the 
man aloft shouted "Ship a-hoy !" and soon after a 
])lack hull bearing a black flag flew toward us and 
a cannon shot from the pirate vessel brought about 
the crew of the "Lady Jane,'' who surrendered at 



84 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

will without a fight to the wild marauders of tHe 
sea. Bearded, booted, armed with pistols and cut- 
lasses, the pirates at the prompt orders of their 
chief grappled the merchantman, rushed aboard, 
captured the captain and purser and demanded 
the keys of the treasure box. 

Such a trembling lot of cowardly officers and 
men I never saw. The fellow who had the lash 
raised over me fainted from absolute fright, and 
I can say, I hope without egotism, that I was the 
only man of the crew perfectly indifferent and 
fearless of the well-kno\\Ti consequence of being 
captured on the high seas by a band of robbing 
and murdering pirates. On general principles 
there is only one fate left to the victims of piracy 
and that is to ^Valk the plank." 

Inside of twenty minutes the pirates had secured 
all the portable valuables and transferred them 
to their sharp, rakish cruiser. A plank was then 
launched over the stern of the '^Lady Jane," se- 
cured and fastened tightly to the guards, and one 
by one, down to the captain, who went last, the 
twenty-nine men were forced at the point of cut- 
lasses to walk over the extended plank, and drop 
forever into the hungry arms of the surging sea. 

A party of the pirates with axes then rushed up 
to the hatchway, where I was still tied and bleed- 
ing from the recent blows of the lash. They drew 
np with great astonishment at my situation. A 
dozen of them went below to scuttle the ship while 
the chief demanded my name, nation, and the 
cause of my predicament. I told him in very brief 
language all. He ordered another party to lower 
the long-boat at once, fill it with provisions and 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 85 

water, and throw in a few pieces of bed clothes 
and sail, with a couple of oars, all of which was 
done in five niiniites. 1 was then untied, rushed 
overboard into the boat, thrown a handful of gold 
coins and pushed av/ay, alone on the wide, wide 
sea, left to the mercy of the wind and waves. As 
I slowly drifted away from the ill-fated "Lady 
Jane" I could see her settle and lurch between 
the rolling billows; and as the bright sun swept 
over the sea in all its glory, its rays seemed to 
linger ])righter than ever on the glittering folds 
of the Union Jack, as it sank in the waves to rise 
no more. All I could see of the pirate ship was 
a black speck in the distant horizon, flitting away 
to the south like a hungry vulture in pursuit of 
prey. 

As soon as I could collect my thoughts, recover 
from my dazed condition and take in the situa- 
tion, I set about to ease the pain that the lash 
had inflicted. Bathing my back with water and 
rubbing on some olive oil that I fortunately found 
among the provisions the pirates had tumbled into 
the boat, I soon felt relief and realized the whole 
enormity of the recent events as well as the provi- 
dential circumstances that had evidently saved 
my life, the onlv survivor of that whole crew who 
went down to \leath through the cupidity and 
cruelty of their fellow-men. 

For seven days and nights I was buffeted about 
by every breeze*^ without seeing a sail or sighting 
land. My provisions were exhausted, and the 
small keg of water had been emptied for two^ days. 
I was nearly crazed with thirst, and were it not 
for occasional heavy showers, partly caught in 



86 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

the open keg and a spread piece of sail, I should 
surely have expired in the hoat or thrown myself 
into the sea in a fit of insane desperation. 

On the evening of the seventh day I could clearly 
perceive that the hoat was caught in a strong cur- 
rent of some kind and hurried along at a rapid 
rate. Peering to the east, I imagined that land 
could be seen, and then again the low dark specks 
would look like clouds floating on the surface of 
the sea. But suddenly the boat took a turn to the 
right, proceeded faster than ever, when just as 
the sun was sinking in the molten sea I beheld a 
bold headland on the coast of Africa, washed by 
the gulf of Eden, through which I had i]jone to 
India with the "Blues." 

As T neared the shore, the rolling weaves seemed 
to grow higher and sound louder in their mad 
wail to the beetling bluffs, and I knew that now or 
never I must pre])nre feu- the worst and soon take 
my chances with the seething surf and dangerous 
rocks that lay hidden in my course. When within 
fifty yards of the shore, and, as I thought, free 
from danger, the boat struck a rock, whirled about 
in wild fury and threw mc into the sea as if I had 
been a leaf in a cyclone. I sank, but in a moment 
rose to the surface, and ere I can tell it the dam- 
aged boat and myself were safely stranded on 
the beach, out of ithe cruel clasp of the heartless 
ocean. 

As soon as I could get my breath, I secured 
the boat, the oars, a hatchet and an ax, the wet 
bedclothes, sails, kegs, cups, pots and scattered 
cooking utensils, ropes and chairs, and luckily a 
bag of wb^it that had been placed under the bow 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 87 

of the boat by 8ome unknown hand for some 
mysterious purpose. 

It was now quite dnrlv, and I could only remain 
where I. was for the iiight, and await the develop- 
ments that to-morrow might bring forth. 1 took 
the hatehet, walked up the hill a short distance, 
cut off a number of bending branches for a bed. 
All througli that weary night I was tortured with 
thirst and slept very little, a hot fever setting in 
just as the first flashes of day lit up the blue and 
green surface of the morning sea. I must find 
water, or surely die. I rushed along the shore 
over rocks, trailing vines and at last plunged into 
a dark, deep ravine, where I heard the sweet 
sound of a waterfall. I lay beneath the spray for 
an hour, and at short intervals assuaged my ach- 
ing thirst. I felt the fever depart after I had 
bathed in the rushing stream, and the angel of 
hope once more hovered over my wandering foot- 
steps, urging me to escape from the toils that 
seemed to environ me worse than the serpents 
around the heads of the Furies. 

On returning to the boat, I saw tracks in the 
sand, that while not exactly the imprint of human 
feet, bore a strong resemblance thereto. I foh 
lowed the trace along the winding, rugged beach 
until the tracks were lost in the d(Mise leaves, vines 
and wild flowers which carpeted the way. Tropi- 
cal fruits and nuts were ripening on every branch, 
and berries of rare hue and curious form filled the 
forest with their fading fragrance. 

The mangrove, the mimosa and acacia, from 
which gum arable is obtained, could be seen 
growing over the slopinc; hills and alluvial valleys. 



88 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

A wild date palm was observed occasionally, aft 
well as the papyrus, while tlie while and blue lotus 
appeared at rare intervals iiloiiijj (lie lazy lagoons 
in the bottom lands, and ofl'ered their fabled fruit 
and bright petals in seeming enticement of luring 
me from the land of my birth and causing me to 
forget all the sweet memories of dear old Albion. 

Parrots and paroquets and other birds of rare 
and dazzling plumage, chattered and sang. Monk- 
eys of all grades sprang from every bough. 

After walking about the island for the most 
part of the day, and observing everything in my 
course, I at last, near sunset, rounded the circle 
of my domain, and came in sight of the boat just 
as I left it. 

In my rambles I secured all the fruit and nuts 
I could carry, and after filling my keg at the 
waterfall near by, I partook of a hearty supper, 
fixed one of the sails over the boat for an awning, 
and lay down to slumber away the sad remem- 
brance of the past. 

I did not awake until the hot sun was half-way 
up the sky. and the warning pains of hunger im- 
pelled me to look about for some substantial food 
to appease my appetite. Stretching out at full 
length at the* stern of the boat, I kicked open a 
kind of trap door that I had not perceived before, 
and lo and behold ! I hauled therefrom a black 
tin can, a long sheet-iron box, an axe, a rusty blun- 
derbuss and a knife that mi,i':ht have done good 
service in shedding pagan blood when Peter the 
Hermit led his crusade for the redemption of the 
tomb of Christ. 

My eyes expanded with delight, and as I had 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 89 

always believed in destiny and an overruling 
Providence, 1 fell on my knees and offered up to 
the God of day and night my most fervent prayer 
of thanksgiving. I opened the black can and 
found it to be a kind of grayish powder. Break- 
ing the long iron box, I found a brace of flint-lock 
pistols, a box of leaden bullets, a bundle of rags 
and a kind of oakum, to be used, no doubt, for 
wadding the firearms. The daylight of liberty 
and salvation now began to rise triumphant in my 
heart and the winding ways of dear old London, 
with its joys and sorrows, arose before me like 
realized visions of cherished hopes. 

In going for fresh water I accidentally stum- 
bled on a young gazelle that was caught in a 
crevice of a rock, moaning for assistance. I at 
once saw a fine pot of fresh meat and boiled wheat 
in sight. I ran to dis]iatch the spotted creature, 
but just as I had raised a huge sun-dried club to 
kill the crying animal, it threw up its round, 
luminous eyes into my face, and like a flash my 
own situation, laslied to the mast, arose before 
me, when I dropped the club, extricated the poor 
thing from its perilous position and turned it 
loose in the forest. I continued to the spring, but 
instead of flying away, the young fawn-like crea- 
ture followed behind me like a dog that knew and 
loved its master. 

When I reached the boat I gave the gazelle, 
which I named "Bet,'' in honor of my sister, a 
handful of wheat, some ripe fruit, nuts and ber- 
ries. It hung around me like a kitten, and I can 
tell you sincerely, sir, that the companionship I 
had with "Bet" on the island afforded me more 



90 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

real, genuine joy tlian any I had ever experienced 
with her sex of the human kind in any Land or 
clime. Wherever I went she went, and even in 
exploring the interior of v.\y domain, which I fre- 
quently did, when meeting with herds of her own 
kind she never scampered away, displayed any 
disposition to flirt with her mates or desert the 
hand that relieved her in the gloom of adversity. 
I wish I could say as much for some of her sister 
animals of the human race. At meals she would 
sit on a log beside t'l'^ hnni vr-d clicer me v/ith her 
bright eyes and symmetrical fonn, while I par- 
took of the feast of the forest. 

When I lay down in my boat house at night 
"Bet" would snuggle up by my side with her head 
over the guards, ears erect, and eyes opened wide, 
to see and hear everytliing. 

I had scoured the island in every direction, 
killed wild game in abundarice, but as yet had 
not seen the footprints of man. There were two 
tribes of gorillas living on my domain, one the 
large, black, fierce kind at the southern end, in the 
tangled, rolling bottom lands, while a tribe of 
these creatures, almost white, made their homes 
in the northern part of the island, amid rocks and 
huge trees that were almost inaccessible. 

Whenever I came in sight the black tribe would 
stand with huge clubs or young trees in their 
hands, erect and seemingly Veady for battle, but 
a shot from my blunderbuss would immediately 
put them to flight, and if I happened to wound 
any of them, as I did, even at long range, on 
several occasions, they would boar off their com- 
rade to the interminable swamps and underbrush, 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 91 

thus preventing me from knowing the real nature 
of the creatures who were joint occupants of the 
island. 

In climbing a mountain crag at the northern 
end of the island, that overhung the roaring sea 
at its base, in search of a spot where I could display 
a sail or flag of distress for the 63^6 of any passing 
mariner, I suddenly came upon a low brush hut 
occupied by a family of white gorillas. Four in- 
mates eating nuts and fruit were presented to my 
view. The largest tore down the hut in his effort 
to depart, carrying with him a half-grown gorilla. 
They looked so much like human beings that I 
did not have the heart to shoot, and I allowed the 
first two to got away. But I sprang in front of 
the smaller one, that had a baby gorilla in her 
arms, and raised my gun to strike her down, when 
a phuntive cry, more like the voice of a human 
being. implore<J me for mercy, and the little fellow 
with his sharp, black eyes, peered at me in wild 
amazement from, beneath his mother's arm. The 
female was covered with long white hair, as fine as 
that of the cashmere goat ; and the little, wild baby 
boy, as he might be called, had a suit of short 
fuzzy hair almost as fine as swan's-down. "Bet," 
who stood at my heels, looked on with wonder. 

I extended some fruit to the mother gorilla, 
v»dien she drew back timidly. I then offered her 
some broken cream nuts which I drew from my 
pocket, and while she partially extended her left, 
slender hand, I could see that she was ready to 
strike with her right, with wdiich she supported her 
baby boy. After a deal of advancing, backing, 
l^uliing and coaxing, she finally took the fruit and 



92 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

nuts from niv hand, and in the course of a couple 
of hours I was feeding little ''Dan/' whom 1 
christened in honor of your humble servant. I 
named the mother "Nell," in honor of a wild 
"flame'' I once had for a charmer while attending 
school at Oxford. 

After hoistisg my flag of distress on a dead 
branch that extended over the cliff, I took the 
hand of "Nell/' and carried little "Dan" in my 
arms down the declivity to my modesi quarters in 
the boat. I then partook of a light supper, shar- 
ing it with my new family, who were not quite as 
happy as some families I have seen. When the 
stars shone out in all their hot splendor, I tied 
Nell with a chain at the stern of the boat, and Bet 
remained at my side at the bow. I soon was in 
deep slumber, and did not awake until broad 
daylight. Tt is ten to one that Nell, Dan and Bet 
did not sleep much that night, as their forced 
acquaintance was not conducive to ease. T have 
noticed even in human beings that where there is 
a disparity in blood or station, there can not be 
any lasting friendship, and, although my presence 
and control had a seeming restraint, it did not 
mollify much the natural enmity existing be- 
tween the gorilla and the gazelle. 

After I had finished a breakfast of nuts and 
fruit and some boiled wheat, I heard a terrible 
yell or barbarous chant over the mountain that 
overhung my marine residence. I loaded up my 
flint lock blunderbuss and pistols, and sallied 
forth. After scaling the mountain top and pro- 
ceeding about a mile to the east, I could see a spire 
of curling smoke rising over a small stream which 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 93 

floAvecl tliroiigh the tangled unclerglades of a deep 
valley leading to the mainland. 

Feeling assured that some human agency 
started the smoke, I proceeded cautiously along 
the valley until I came to a beetling bluff, from 
which I beheld a sight that made my blood run 
cold and the marrow in my very bones to congeal 
with fright and horror. Around a hot, blazing 
fire I saw and counted nine black, naked savages, 
dancing the cannibal cancan in celebration of the 
feast they had already made on a couple of vic- 
tims, while two other human beings were tied to a 
tree near the fire, ready to be killed and roasted 
like their companions whose bones lay on the 
ground before them. I concluded to do or die 
right there, and forfeit my own life to save my 
fellow beings. I cautiously crept through the 
•underbrush within a hundred yards of the black 
devils, who were still dancing and yelling about 
their victims and drinking something out of shin- 
ing skulls. There was one black cannibal that 
seemed to be the leader of the death chant and 
who was seven feet tall, if an inch. 

In one of his mad gyrations, leading his infer- 
nal comrades around the two remaining victims, I 
took a dead aim at his head, and at the sound 
of my blunderbuss, I could see him pitch forward 
into the fire and his companions throw up their 
skulls and run to their canoes, which swung in the 
rapid stream near by. I at once ran down the 
stream close to a jutting rock where they must 
pass in their effort to get back to the mainland. 
I waited patiently with loaded pistols and blunder- 
buss until they were swept along with the rapid 



94 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

iciirront, when I opened on them in rapid succes- 
sion, killing four at the first discharge of my fire- 
arms, and ere I could load again three of the four 
were dashed against some rocks that lay in the 
stream, their canoe upset and they sank to rise no 
more. Only one got away. I immediately hur- 
ried back to where the intended victims were tied 
to the tree. They were almost speechless with 
surprise and fear, not knowing whether the enemy 
they had just escaped was worse than the war- 
like one they beheld. I soon made them at ease, 
saw they were white like myself, the victims of a 
shipwreck, who had fallen into the hands of 
African cannibals. They were originally four in 
number, the captain of a Portuguese vessel, his 
wife, son and daughter. The wife and son had 
just been roasted and eaten, while the father and 
ten year old girl were awaiting their turn to be 
done up brown, when Fate brought my bullets 
to their timely relief. 

I untied the pair at once, and while they only 
talked a little broken English it was enough for a 
perfect understanding that we must quit the 
island as soon as possible. In traversing the way 
back to my boat I passed by the crag over which 
hung my flag of distress, and lo ! hark ! and be- 
hold ! a ship hove in sight and ere I can tell it a 
British cruiser flying the Union Jack swung a 
boat over her side and put into a cove about a half 
mile below where my boat was moored. We hurried 
^dong the shore as quickly as possible and, after 
releasing Nell, Pan and Bet, my whole family was 
soon in the long boat and making to the providen- 
tial ship that lay away in the surging gulf. Once 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 95 

on board with my variety menagerie, I felt that 
peace and safety had come at last. A short nar- 
rative explained all to the captain of the cruiser, 
who was astonished and gratified that he had been 
the instrument of saving three human beings 
from starvation and death. As the ship bore 
away around the crag where my signal of distress 
was still flying, we could see a number of the 
white gorillas beating their breasts, running along 
the cliff and setting up shrill cries that rang over 
the bounding billows like the wild screech of sea 
birds. Nell endeavored to jump over the sides of 
the vessel, and the wail she sent up as her rela- 
tives, friends and home vanislied into the glim- 
mering distance was truly pathetic, and made me 
sincerely wish that I had not been the cause of 
separating wife and son from no doubt a loviiig 
husband and the vernal shades and tropic bowers 
that blessed their innocent meanderings. 

But the die was cast and Nell and Dan, and 
even my beautiful Bet, were destined for the 
British Museum and the curiosity and information 
of the English people. In a short time the ship 
landed us safely near the Tower on the Thames. 
I had been away from home more than six years 
and had not heard a word from my father or 
sister. 

After disposing of my menagerie for a hundred 
pounds, I went immediately to my old home; but, 
alas, I found that my father had died the year 
after I had departed for India, my sister Bet had 
gone up to London with a rake who promised to 
marry her, and Lord Lucan, my patron and 
friend, had but the year before gone to rest in the 



96 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

old i'lnircliy;ird lliat liold th(> ])()ii(.'s of my fallior 
and inothor. 

1 iurnod my back forovor on ilio old lioni(\s((>ad, 
crumbling and ddapidated, and ])roooodod to tbo 
graveyard on tbo noigbboring bill to take a la^t 
look at tbc sacred spot tbat entombed tbe dearest 
friends I ever bad on earth. A magnificent sbaft 
rose over tbe remains of Lord Lncan, wbile two 
modest wbite beadstones memorialized tbe names 
and virtues of my parents. At tbe fcxit of each 
grave there grew a bush bearing ])\u'e-white roses, 
no doubt the lineal descendants of those T sent to 
decorate mv mother's grave when eidisting in the 
"Blues." 

As I turned my face towards London through 
the golden shadows of the evening sunset, these 
lines sprang spontaneously into my mind when 
peering at 

THE OLD HOMESTEAD. 

I gaze on my old ruined homestead io-day. 
Through the tears of a wild, vanisJied youth, 

I see the hroad poirltes gone down to deeay. 
Where my mother instilled every truth. 

The chimney has crumbled away in the blast. 
And the rafters have all tunil)led down : 

The hearthstone brings bad' all the joys of the 
past 
As the clouds in the west darl'ly frown. 

The spring at the foot of the hill has gone dry. 
And the apple and plum trees have gone; 

I stand in the qloom,.as the winds deeply sigh, 
See the ghosts of my friends one by one. 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 97 

Here my motker and faiJicr sleep side hy side 

In a nc/Kj/c on the top of the kill; 
Where my heart was as light as the foam on the 
tide 

When I sauntered about the old mill 

That stood on the banks of the brook dovjn the 
lane, 

Where it rumbled its musical flow, 
But alas, I shall never play there again, 

As I played in the sweet long ago. 

The wild, bird luould drum o'er my head on the 
oak. 
And the gray squirrel chatter Jiis tune. 
But where are the schoolmates whose sports and 
IV hose joke 
Thrilled my heart in the play spell at noon. 

Some arc ''gone o'er the ranges" to sleep in the 
vale, 

Jjike m,yself, some have wandered afar, 
Blown about like a leaf in a withering gale 

Or attuned like a broken guitar. 

By th,e last ray of sunset I sadly behold 
The old ruined home of my youth. 

Where the jessamine clambered in colors of gold 
And the voices I heard spoke the truth. 

Farewell to the friends and the scenes that I knew 
In the morning of life, bright and fair. 

My heart shall forever commingle with you 
And my spirit shall always be there. 



98 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

And now, sir, I linvo closed my narrative, and 
soon will elose a life that was lanndied with the 
hris^'htest hopes and assured promises. Here to- 
night, I'm weary, sad and ahsolntely without a 
penny or friend ; the wreck of passion, indiscre- 
iion and iniemperance. Where shall I go, what 
Hhall 1 do? What is the end? Who cares for 
TUK Moneyless Man? 

Mow the words of my old college chnm, TlcMiry 
'W Stanton, of Kentucky, Hash through my mind. 

Is there 110 secret plaee on the face of iJie earth. 
Where charity dwetleih, where virtue hath birth. 
Where bosoms in mercy and kindness will heave. 
Where the poor and wretched shall ash and re- 
ceive ? 
Is there no place at all where a liiocl' from the 

poor 
Will bring a Innd angel to open the door? 
Ah! Search the wide world wherever you can. 
There* s no open door for .a moneyless man. 

Go, laoh in yon hall where the chandelier's light 
Drives off with its splendor the darl-ness of night. 
Where the rich hanging velvet in shadowy fold 
Sweeps gracefully down tvith its trimmings of 

gold. 
And the mirrors of silver tal'c up and renew 
In long lighted vistas the wilder! ng view! 
Go there at the banquet and find if you can, 
A welco}ning smile for a moneyless man! 

Ho look in yon church of the cloud-reaching spire. 
Which gives to the sun his same look of red fire, 



London, Its Guilt and Glory. 99 

Where the arches and columns are gorgeous within. 
And tlie walls seem as pure as a soul without sin; 
Walk doivn the long aisle, see the rich and the 

great, 
Jn the pomp and the pride of their luorldly estate; 
Walk down in your patches and find, if you can. 
Who opens a pew to a moneyless maji! 

Go, look in the hanks, where mammon has told 
His hundreds and thousands of silver and gold; 
Where, safe from the hands of the starving and 

poor. 
Lies pile upon pile of the glittering ore. 
Walk up to their counters — ah! there you may 

Till your Hnihs grow old, till your hairs grow 

' gray, 
And you'll find at the hanks not one of the clan, 
With money to loan to a moneyless man. 

Go, look at yon judge, in his dark flowing gown. 
With the scales wherein laiv weigheth equity down; 
Where he froivns on the weak and smiles on the 

strong, 
And punishes right tvhile he justifies wrong; 
Where juries their lips to the Bihle have laid 
To render a verdict they've already made; 
Go there, in the courtroom, and find, if you can, 
Any laiv for the cause of the moneyless man. 

Then go to your h^ovel — no raven has fed 
The wife who has suffered too long for her hread : 
Kneel doivn hy her pallet and kiss the death- frost 
From the lips of the angel your poverty lost; 
LofC. 



lOO Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Then turn in your agony upward to God, ^ 
And Mess, while it smites you, the chastening rod, 
And you'll find at the end of your life's little span. 
There's a welcome above for a moneyless man. 



A Temperate Talk. loi 



CHAPTER XL 

A TEMPERATE TALK. 

Truth. Dan Derange, ere we part, let me give 
you a little advice, but first, here is a pound to 
supply your immediate wants. Go your way, 
ponder on what I say, but endeavor to learn from 
the vicissitudes that vice and misfortune engender 
that, no matter what your poetic, patriotic, or 
scientific ability may be, the lack of moderation, 
discretion and common sense will not compensate 
you for the los£ of reputation or the respect of 
the world, but will be a sharp thorn to sting 
conscience in your last hours of dissolution. 

You are a young man yet, and may trim up 
and reform from the besetting and almost uni- 
versal sin of intemperance. You are only food 
for ale, whisky and wine sellers, who are as hearts 
less as the stones you now stand upon; and after 
spending valuable time, and your last farthing, 
at their gilded resorts, they would see you die in 
the gutter and be buried in the Potter's field with- 
out a sigh for your situation or a dollar for your 
eternal departure. 

Intemperance is the most fruitful source of 
worldly ruin. Like the tiger of the jungles, it 



I02 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

is the monster tlial hurrnles i\w ])()or and dra^^s 
down even the rich. As a deep-seated caneer, it 
silently eats into the physical and moral vitals 
of man, until at last the stag.ij^ering victim sinks 
into a dishonored and nameless grave, leaving 
behind a starving family and cruel memory. See 
the dark hovel of the drnnkard's family in mid- 
night honrs. Ilis shivering wife and hahe crouch 
ahout the smoldering emhers that tlicker on the 
hroken hearth and die on the cold ashes of de- 
spair. She peers through the hroken window and 
the midnight gloom for a husband that may never 
come, aiul clasps the freezing child to her hroken 
heart. She imagines that already he has become 
the victim of some murderous blow, or in a fit of 
delirium has blown his own brains ouj: or flung 
hims(>lf into the dark embrace of the rolling river, 
and as she hears the sound of the pistol or rush 
of the stream, she heaves her life away in one 
last sigh, and is found dead in the morning witli 
her infant child a corpse in her arms — another 
innocent victim to the passion and insanity of the 
demoniac drunkard. 

The man who drinks whisky as a beverage, 
stands on the verge of an open volcano; storms 
above, poverty around and death below. The so^ 
cial glass in the home leads to the glass of the 
bloat in the bar-room, the wine cup at the banquet 
to the bottle and jug on the road. The lundxM'- 
ing stage of tlie drunkard is now fairly whirling 
on the way to destruction; the reins of the horses 
are slack; the hubs are greased f(U' the flight, and 
the driver can't reach the brakes. Hound and 
round he rolls down the mountain side of life. 



A Temperate Talk. 103 

('irclei^, angles, rocks, trees and streams are passed 
with a lightning spe(;d, until the iineli-{)jii of 
reason drops from the axle of understanding ;>!id 
the rider is dashed into the gulf, a thousand feet 
below, where tlie waters of ol)Jivioii sweep over 
him forever. 

The brightest men of the world are caught by 
the devil in his wdiisky net. The small fry often 
get through the meshes, but the royal siurgeon 
and salmon swim right into the trap in fancied 
security, floundering when too late to extricate 
themselves fi'om the demon that ensnared ttuMr 
generosity. 1 have seen poets, statesmen and gen- 
erals of the highest order, in every land and clime, 
in midnight and morning hours, staggering home 
in maudlin imbecility. Perhaps through th(! day 
these fine intellects held listening throngs under 
the spell of their genius, eloquence or victorious 
battles. They could conquer other men, but they 
could not conquer their own appetites. Passion 
took full charge; the devil was commander-in- 
chief, and whisky was his adjutant-general. 

Loved ones and neighbors must suffer for the 
crimes of the drunkard and share, more or less, 
the odium that attaches to his quarrelsome con- 
duct. Little bare f(!et, cold shoulders, empty 
stomachs, ragged beds, leaking roofs, the poor- 
house, prison and potter's field go in his fearful 
train. The blossoms of youth and pride are for- 
gotten, the flowers of manhood bear no perfumes, 
and at last comes the nettles and briers of old age, 
remorse and death. Gilded palaces, club houses 
and glaring saloons are dedicated to blistering 
Bacchus. Thousands of ruined homes are 



104 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

swamped in the pool of this voracious god, fron) 
day to day, and year to year, and yet his reign 
seems to ilourisli without any mercy or intermis- 
sion for the vain victims who patronize the flow- 
ing fountain of his irrepressible inicpiity. 

Go to the dance-house, bar-room, tavern, concert 
hall and theaters of the cities of the world any 
night and see their benches filled for a price, 
where sour beer, poison whisky and manufactured 
wines are poured down passionate throats to the 
music of lascivious tunes, the maudlin laugh of 
the belated bloat and the simpering smile of the 
battered beauty at his side. These halls of killing 
revelry are crowded for cash, while the church 
across the way, that proifers peace and purity for 
nothing, is almost empty, its vacant pews being a 
terrible commentary on the degeneracy of the day. 

These places must be invaded by the workers of 
a sound religious truth, who will speak to the heart 
and appeal to the reason of the poor, weak wrecks 
of lunnan passion, whose pride and self-respect has 
been almost submerged in the brimming, killing- 
bowl, sought often for the purpose of drowning 
some secret sorrow, but in lucid moments only 
filling the heart and brain with remorse and dis- 
gust at their unavailing effort to soothe sorrow by 
reckless inebriety and debauchery. 

Religion, at last, is the sheet anchor of the soul. 
It springs in the heart, bright and beautiful, a 
fountain of never failing consolation to those who 
trust in a Divine Providence. The sailor, riding 
over dangerous billows, works on against roaring 
storms, hoping to reach some distant shore where 
loved ones await him. Hope inspires even when 



A Temperate Talk. 105 

the last wave engulfs him, forever. Strike it from 
the heart and you have a trackless ocean without 
compass or rudder to guide your lurching barque, 
and a barren desert without water, tree or llower 
to cheer the weary traveler. Kill religious hope 
and the rose has no perfume, the birds no song, 
the brook no music, the stars no brightness, the 
sun no warmth, the home no beauty and the world 
no virtue. 

Doubt and infidelity are the forerunners of de- 
struction. Luxury, licentiousness and intemper- 
ance are triplet brothers of ruin. The corroding 
doctrine of the scoffer is eating into the life blood 
of the world, tearing down the thoughts of cen- 
turies established in blood and sanctified by fire, 
while they substitute nothing over the idols and 
altars they destroy. Belief in society and gov- 
ernment in this fleeting world is absolutely neces- 
sary for prosperity and peace here, and becomes 
an assured promise for rest and peace beyond the 
grave. Anarchy or non-belief is fatal to society 
and becomes the very essence of disintegration 
and death. When Egypt, Greece and Rome for- 
got virtue and their God, they decayed and died, 
leaving behind the memory of their sins in their 
crumbling temples, moldering monuments and 
buried cities. 

Infidelity is a winter without a spring, a Sibe- 
rian waste, where only the bear and the wolf send 
forth their hungry growl and howl on the track 
of the tired traveler. Far better a deathless hope 
than a hopeless death! 

The iconoclast may boast of his having smashed 
many beloved idols for thousands of years, but hf 



io6 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

never yet broke so many images of virtue and love 
as Bacchus. Listen to his boast: 

THE BOAST OF BACCHUS. 

I reign over land, I reign over sea, 
The proudest of earth I bring to my hnee; 
As weah as a child in the midnight of care, 
The prince and the peasant I strip bleak and bare. 

A taste of my blood sends a thrill to the heart. 
And speeds through the soid like a poisoned dart. 
While I leave it a tvreck of trouble and pain. 
That never on earth can be perfect again. 

The youth in his bloom and the man in his might, 
I capture by day and conquer by night; 
The maid and the matron respond to my call, 
I rule like a tyrant and ride over all. 

In the gilded saloon and the glittering crowd 
I deaden the senses and humble the proud, 
And tear from the noble, the good and the great, 
The love and devotion of home, church and state. 

I blast all the honor that manhood holds dear, 
I smile luith delight at the sight of a tear; 
And laugh in the revel and rout of a night. 
My mission on earth is to blur and to blight. 

I ruin the homes of the high and the lotv, 
I blast every hope of the friend and the foe; 
The world I sear unth my blistering breath 
And millions I lead to the portals of death. 



A Temperate Talk, 107 

In the parlor and dance-house I sparhle and roar 
Like billows that break on a wild, rocky shore; 
I crush every virtue, destroy every truth 
That blossoms in beauty or blushes in youth. 

My poiver is mighty for sin and despair; 
I crouch like a lion that ivaits in his lair. 
To mangle the life of the pure and the brave 
And drag them in sorrow to shamj and the grave. 

I drown royal hearts in the dregs of the bowl; 
I sing and exult in the sigh of the soul; 
I darketi the mind of the faithful and fine — 
Hurrah for the devil that reigns in the wine! 



Truth. Now, Dan, here come my friends, 
Love and Generosity, who, by-the-bye, are disposed 
to varnish over your failings and throw the mantle 
of charity, even over your impulsive crimes, but 
for myself I must give you the v/hole truth as I 
see and feel it, without a particle of flattery. 

Dan Derange. Bitt who knows the truth? 

Zoroaster, thousands of 5^ears ago, taught his 
followers to believe in light and heat, and that it 
was the proper thing to worship the sun. 

Buddha, the Indian prince, who lived six hun- 
dred years before our era, taught his Oriental 
millions that it was the square thing to believe in 
annihilation, eternal rest, or nothing. 

The Hebrews believed in the Talmud, which 
taught of an orthodox God, and that the Eabbis' 
word was all in all, and his cherem^ curse or ex- 



io8 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

communication, against any one of the Synagogue, 
was enough to deprive him of respect and property 
in this world and bliss in the next 

Christ, a Jew, taught that in this world we 
should do unto others as we would have them do 
unto us, and that by the exercise of Charity, at 
least, we would have eternal life beyond the grave, 
"where the wicked cease from troubling and the 
weary are at rest/' 

The Egyptians, tlirough their gods, Osiris and 
Isis, and the teleiDhonic High Priests, believed in 
a "job lot" of mythical gods, but made the vain 
endeavor to have their kings and rulers live in 
stone needles, temples and pyramids, now crum- 
bled or crumbling over the dust of those who 
erected them. 

Mohammed, the bloody war murderer, forced 
his Koran into the hands and hearts of millions 
by fire and sword, and made his devotees believe 
that he was the special agent of Allah, or God. 

And so, down to the present day, man has 
molded manufactured gods for man to worship, 
and yet the realm beyond the grave is as blank 
and dark as the purlieus of Plutonian night. 

So, I say, who knows the truth? 

Farewell, I will make a last search for sweet 
sister "Bet," and perhaps in her loving arms 1 
may send a last sigh to our dear old home, that it 
may finally echo as a sad requiem over the little 
green mounds above the graves of our affectionate 
parents. 



Soaring, Prophecy, Justice. 109 



CHAPTER XII. 

SOARING, PROPHECY, JUSTICE. 

Truth. Well, we must away from these scenes 
of joy and woe to other climes and regions where 
man does not prey, not only on all animated na- 
ture, but on himself. 

Love. Some day we shall find out that all good 
or evil proceed from our own thoughts or acts; 
and that the misfortunes that befall us here can 
be traced directly to indiscretion. 

Generosity. Speaking for myself, I can say, 
in a measure, that what you say is true; and yet, 
my dear and only friends, I could point you out 
many instances where I became the victim of 
other men's vice and criminality. Many false 
friends have asseverated to me in sunshine that 
they would be as true as the stars, and that in. 
poverty, disgrace, and even death they would stand 
by my side to the last. 

But, alas ! for the weakness or treachery of 
human nature, at the first lowering of the clouds 
of misfortune, and at the first sound of approach- 
ing danger, these surface, policy friends would 
creep away with catlike rapidity and leave me 
alone, not only to endure mental and material 
punishment for my own indiscretion, but also to 



no Brickbats and Bouquets. 

bear the burden of their sins. What arran£ 
cowards ! 

Truth. My brother, you speak in the line of a 
just experience, and I shall not attempt to deny 
or countervail your statements. Let us rise out 
of the smoke and sins of this great city and wing 
away to the frigid north in search of unknown 
lands, where other beings may give us more hope 
and consolation than we beliold hero. At every 
turn al)out this green, gaseous globe, I hear noth- 
ing l.nt money, money, war, war. 

Even now, as we soar over the temporary habi- 
taffons of men, I can see them preparing, in the 
depths of their wicked hearts, for one grand, uni- 
versal battle, where tyranny and liberty shall 
figlit for one kingdom or one republic. 

The contest seems unequal. America, France 
and Russia, the most advanced and benighted, are, 
strange to say, friends in the great conflict. 

England, Scandinavia, Austria, Italy, Spain, 
Turkey, Asia and Africa stand as roaring beasts 
in the path of progress. 

They leave the earth and assail each other miles 
abbve with aerial navies and armies whose feet 
are winged like Mercury, whose arms are pinioned 
like mad eagles, and whose bristling, electric bayo- 
net points flash like ihe brilliant arrows of the 
dawning day. 

The thundering roar of heaven's artillei^ sounds 
not more fearful than ibe clash of these flying 
:M'niies and navies in the "upper bine." Tbe 
lightnings of Ajax seem to be nursed in the hol- 
low of freedom's hand, and as the mail-clad war- 
riors of tvrannv flino- themselves to the front with 



Soaring, Prophecy, Justice. iii 

ponderous force, they are beaten back by electric 
bullets, bayonets and balls of celestial fire, hurled 
by the unerring hand of Liberty and her bleeding 
heroes. 

Down, down to earth go victor and vanquished, 
liorse and rider, cannons and ships, until half the 
contending millions seem blotted from the sky. 

Again they rise on the wings of electric war 
and crash together like angry clouds in a stormy 
sunset. Zigzag bolts of lightning are showered 
on each army, and the billowy waves of dreadful 
pound that rise and fall in the advance or retreat 
of the contending warriors, blind the sight, make 
deaf the ear, and stop the pulsations of the bravest 
hearts. 

The sun goes down upon the conflict, and as the 
red moon rolls up from the bleeding horizon the 
vanquished hosts of tyranny are seen falling, fall- 
ing down, down to the lowest hell, where Ingrati- 
tude, Remorse, and Despair shall commingle to- 
gether forever. 

He H: H: H: 4: 4c 

Those who believed in liberty for its own sake, 
lingered on the domain of their tyrant oppressors 
until the conquering millions of freedom settled 
back on the earth once more, to organize out of a 
chaotic world a universal republic. 

General Principle, ruling all the Americas, con- 
sulted for a few days with France and Russia, and 
while the Czar of the frozen zone shrugged his 
shoulders, and growled a little at the idea of a 
universal republic, he finally consented to become 
a man of justice. The world was divided up into 
three hundred states, and each state sent two 



112 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

representatives to Washington, the capital of 
the globe, located in a country that was once 
called the United States. Washington, the head- 
quarters of the world, had a population of ten 
millions of people, extending from the ancient 
forks of the Potomac lliver and Georgetown, down 
to the Atlantic Ocean. 

Wh(Mi i\\o six liundrcd representatives assem- 
bled at midniglit, under a full moon, every man 
answered to liis name as ho was called by General 
Principle, the conmiander-in-chief. 

The capitol was located on a high hill overlook- 
ing the millions that lived below. It was built 
of pure white marble, thirty-three stories high, 
and was ten miles in cireumfin-ence. All the busi- 
ness oflices of the govcn'nment were inside the 
walls. 

From ihis capital the mode of locomotion was 
rapid and novel. On the western heights of the 
city a circular depot, three miles in circumfer- 
ence, was established. Kadiating over the earth, 
twelve thousand five hundred miles, ran from this 
point three thousand pneumatic tubes. The 
tubes, or cylinders, were seven feet in diameter 
and were in duplicate form, so that electric cars 
that shot through them never collided. These 
pneumatic cylinders were made of ilexible, mal- 
leable steel, and had a strength of a thousand 
pounds to tlie s(juare inch. They were laid over 
the earth, on valley, hill, river, lake and ocean, 
and appeared like mammoth anacondas stretching 
away to the farthest limit of human habitation. 
The cars that ran through these tubes were sus- 
pended on indestructible trucks that bore all the 



Soaring, Prophecy, Justice. 113 

pressure of llie air as it nislicd iiiio ilie vticuum 
created, and the eight })eo])li! who 0(:c;ii])ied Feats 
were oblivious of the ligliiuiug ra])idity of their 
transit of thousands of miles in a few minutes. 

A person wishing to visit New York, London, 
San Francisco, Pekin, Kio Janeiro, St. l*eters- 
burg, Paris, lionie, Athens, Berlin, Constantino- 
ple, Sitka, Mexico, Chicago, Boston, St. Ijouis, 
Cape May, Calveston, Moscow, Dublin, Columbus, 
Louisville, l^oiiland, Ji]diiibiirgh, (^airo, Yokohama, 
Oshkosh, (!harl('ston, Geneva, Lima, Delhi, Cape 
Town, l^allimore, or any othc^r "way station" over 
the globe, had only to ste]) up to the man tliat held 
the lever at the mouth of the tube, state his desire 
and place of destination, and he or she were at 
once placed in one of the palace cars, charged with 
air and liglit, and shot, inside of five minutes, to 
the utmost limit of the earth. When the top 
door Hew open the passenger stepped out, as gay 
and fresh as a daisy. You could hear the con- 
ductors, night and dav, cry out, such as this: 
"All aboard for Rome, London and Delhi !" "All 
out for Pome, Ijondon and Delhi !" A swing of 
the lever flashed the pneumatic cars through the 
world like lightning. 

And the beauty of all (his was that the govern- 
ment paid the freight. A man could breakfast 
on ripe fruit in Persia, dine on dandelions at 
Danville, and lake supper on "sour mash'' in Ken- 
tucky, l^^verybody was so n(Mghborly, and the 
cold, stuck-iip, ffigidily jx'ojile were dead, and 
well. 

The constitution was unwritten, and there was 
but one law, and I hat absolute justice. 



114 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

All property was in common, and there were 
no poor or rich in the government. 

The election for President was held every seven 
years, and every man and woman throughout the 
world seventeen years of age, and upward, voted 
at twelve o'clock on the Fourth of July, D. N. L. 

Every house in the Cosmos had a tap telephone, 
?tTA the register of votes flew out at once on an 
electric board, and there was no going back on 
the returns ! 

Either the illustrious Smith or Jones were 
elected for seven years, and did not take any oath 
of office. He was not that kind of a man. 

Every one was honest, and there was no neces- 
sity for building up guilds, societies and material 
rings, as they did in the early days of creation. 

Men and Vv^omen were not hypocrites, cowards 
or tyrants, and they would not lie, steal or mur- 
der, for they were not created that way. 

There was no death in the universal common- 
vrealth. After the people lived exactly one thou- 
sand years, they shifted the old, wrinkled shell, 
and began birth again at the age of seventeen. 
The man who had once been such became a 
woman, and the woman became a man. Just an 
equalization to teach square up and down justice. 
Steamboats and railroads were left stranded 
on the old shores of time, a streak of dust and 
rust. 

Navigation was by air and pneumatic tubes, and 
every mortal, young or old, could rise from the 
earth on his electric wings and fly, at least five 
hundred miles an hour if disposed to do so, or 
two thousand miles a minute by tube. The only 



Soaring, Prophecy, Justice. 115 

animal on the earth was man; beasts, birds and 
fishes had no place in the cosmogony. 

Wild vegetables and fruits of the best and 
freshest kind grew everywhere. There was no 
fall, winter or spring. It was one eternal sum- 
mer, and men and women needed no clothing, but, 
like an ancient lady named Eve and a gentleman 
named Adam, they wandered over the earth in 
pursuit of nothing but unalloyed pleasure, and 
they found it. 

Love. Your republic suits me exactly, and 
there I would wish to linger forever. 

Generosity. Count me in on the magnani- 
mous meanderings of your Utopia. 

****** 

Truth. Hush ! Here we are at the very cen- 
ter of the Arctic circle, and there in the dazzling 
distance stands the Genii to that lower world, the 
heaven of animals and the hell of man. Ah ! 
well met ; here comes our old companions. Wit, 
Despair, Hate and Hope. What news abroad? 

Wit. The world is as foolish as ever. 

Despair. Death at every turn. 

Hate. Everything wrong. 

Hope. Everything pure and lovely. 

Truth. Steady ; we are now in the round rush 
of the terrible ocean, that takes us millions of 
miles to the black shades of everlasting hell for all 
those who have committed fraud and injustice in 
this sand speck from the sun. 

Genii. Halt! Who goes there? 

Truth. Love, Hope, Wit and Despair. 

Genii. Give the countersign. 

Truth. In a low voice, "Life and death '' 



1x6 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

All were swept away into the roaring, seething 
waters b}^ the flashing wand of the Genii. As 
they were tossed and tumbled through the ice 
shaft that led to the regions below, Despair and 
Hate were dashed to pieces; Wit opened his 
month to get off one of his "chestnuts," and was 
choked to death by a bowlder of ice ; Hope sprang 
to the front, but his calculations were dashed to 
oblivion; Love intervened to cajole the Genii, 
when a blast from his breath froze her to death, 
and Truth and Generosity alone were the only 
survivors that reached the gloomy grove below, 
where mortals that once lived in the upper wo**ld 
were constantly pursued by the animals, birds and 
fishes they once abused and fed upon. 

The Genii in his descent witli Truth and Gen- 
erosity placed upon the right forefinger of Truth 
a blood-red ring, saying as he departed that it 
would protect them against all danger; and while 
they might often be in imminent peril, a flash of 
the ring would v»^ard off all enemies. 

Truth. Well, my noble friend, you and I, 
after all, are the only ones left of those that 
graced our earthly train. I often had doubts as 
to your final survival, for your seeming want of 
thought, and prodigality, has frequently brought 
a pain to my heart and a blush to my cheek. Yet 
with all your failings, and they are not a few, I 
love you anyway. 1 have seen you often, in mid- 
night and morning hours, go silent and alone to 
the bedside of sickness and poverty, and give 
even your last dollar to the needy and suiTering, 
while you went without breakfast yourself. I 
have noticed your uncomplaining tongue tied 



Soaring, Prophecy, Justice. 117 

■when you could not say something good, and have 
seen you many times walk away burdened with 
the miseries of others, and 1 liave seen you shed 
tears at the open appeal of misfortune, when you 
were so poor that tears were the only gems you 
could bestow. Oli ! How sad the sight ! To be- 
hold the wretchedness and misery of others with- 
out the power of relieving their distress. 

Generosity. I am supremely glad that there 
has been at least one mortal who could sound the 
depths of my soul and give me credit for my in- 
nate virtues. 

Truth. There are always a few who will do 
you justice in the long run, and know that even 
your failings lean to virtue's side. 

Now, let us proceed and explore this rugged 
and horrible world. We'll stand together and 
ponder on what we see. 

4( He He H< He He 

After moving down a dark, precipitous ravine 
for about five miles they came abruptly against a 
high, stone-walled door, with a ponderous iron 
knocker. 

Truth gave three loud knocks, when the door 
swung open, and lo and behold ! There stood two 
rampant lions with large guns in their paws, 
roaring a demand for the intrusion of Truth to 
their dominions. You must know that the ani- 
mals, beasts, birds and fishes of this strange and 
horrible region could talk, and that the human 
beings were nearly dumb. And, curious to relate, 
the same instruments formerly used by man for 
the destruction of animals were now used by the 



Ii8 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

boasts, birds, and fishes; and their forefeet, paws 
and fins answered the pnrposc of arms. 

One flash of tlie nia«]^ic ring made these lions 
stand aside, with a rapid raid to the rear. 

The faee of the country was very broken, and 
wherever the eye could catch a glimpse of the 
moving myriads of human beings they were 
hunted, beaten and eaten up by the very same kind 
of animals they devoured on earth. A tit-for-tat 
kind of game was played with a vengeance. 

SJC «t* ^ '1* "T* n^ 

Trut]I. TiOok what a long line of monkeys and 
baboons in the distance, holding something like 
little dark men and women at the end of a string, 
making them jump, dance and squeal for their 
amusement. Those are Italians, and while Oi\?sar, 
Pante, Angelo, Horace, Beatrice, Laura and Lu- 
cretia Borgia head the procession, the monkeys 
have them now on the hip, and all the memory 
of vanished glory will not purchase a plate of 
macaroni. They get nothing to eat but stale 
cocoanuts, with the milk soured. 

This tribe of large variety monkeys lived in a 
deep, tangled forest and had a fine time, while 
the parrots that flew about in the trees seemed as 
delighted with the misery of the classic and laz- 
zaroni Italians as if each poll held the string her- 
self. "Purty Italians wants a macaroni," and 
then, as if in fiendish derision, flung a cocoanut 
on the head of the nearest CiBsar or Borgia. This 
experiment never failed to crack the cocoanut. 
We wandered on for days and days, thousands of 
miles, and as we passed each group they seemed 
at least to know that we were privileged characters, 



Soaring, Prophecy, Justice. 119 

and did not disturb onr niovemonis or ciiriosit)^ 

In one of our perambulations, after scaling a 
very high mountain, we came suddenly in view 
of an inland sea that swept away to the dimmest 
line of the melting horizon. 

On the beach, as far as the eye could reach, we 
beheld moving masses of mammoth salmon, blue- 
fish, shad, mackerel, lobsters, crabs, oysters and 
clams, poking and tumbling about long heaps of 
diminutive boys, girls, men aiid women, red, l)lack 
and white, that had been caught and cooked up 
in the great annual clambake given every year by 
the Shark that ran the summer hotel. 

The neighl)oring animals, and also beasts and 
birds from a distance, came in their annual search 
for pleasure, to feed off the various human beings 
that had been caught, killed and cooked for their 
delectation. 

The lion of old Africa and his numerous family 
were there with all the paraphernalia of his native 
jungles. They seemed to take great delight in 
breaking up the bones and tearing the flesh of a 
fresh lot of English dudes that had been flung 
on a mound of seaweed and sand at their feet. I 
never saw such a voracious set of lions. The 
memory of their own tortures in ancient times 
lent, no doubt, great zest to their appetite. 

It was rather laugliable to see a Dolly Varden 
set of wild ducks, geese, turkeys, pigeons, snipes, 
pheasants, grouse, woodcock, partridge, quail, and 
even reed birds, at one end of the great annual 
feast, wading in with claws and bills, tearing and 
eating delicate morsels Of field, river, ocean and 



120 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

mountain huntsmen, wlio in the ])ast showed no 
mercy for the featliered tribe. 

At one eh'vated ])l;iee, a spurt of sand into the 
sea, we behehl a very hir^e (h)ck of domestic 
ducks, jj^eese^ chickens and turkeys ravenously 
tearing open the cooked eyes, ears and breasts of 
a number of wrinkled humanity, some done to a 
crisp, and others as rare as a rooster. A close 
(examination would show one that these victims 
of malice or justice had once been female cooks 
and waiters from old Germany, France, Italy, 
Ireland, England, America, Rhode Island and 
New Jersey. "^I'ou could see, also, a long lot of 
dishes filled with "colored belles" and "old mam- 
mies" from Virginia, Kentucky and South Caro- 
lina. At these places the spring chickens, the fat 
capon, and the gay turkey gobbler, with his proud 
strut, took peculiar delight in twisting and eating 
off the heads of "ohf mammies," "Sis. Sals," 
"Cousin Lous" and "Aunt Fannies." As an old 
comic friend of ours once said, they had a 11. 0. T. 
— a high old time ! P. D. Q. As the four even- 
ing suns declined (for you must know that at the 
four points of the compass, in tliis rare realm, 
there were four rising and four setting suns, the 
first quartette doing the rising and second doing 
the setting business), all the ilsh tribes of river 
and sea formed in double files and surrounded 
the tables by the water, devouring with great 
relish the remains of the Walton rod and line 
men, and the innunuu'able specimens of trap, 
Kspear and net men, who, in all the ages, had fed 
oft' their progenitors. 

It was funny, if not so serious, to see the cod 



Soaring, Prophecy, Justice. 121 

and liis family, as well as llio mackerel and Jier- 
I'iiig, ^^o for the sweet bits of the Nantucket and 
Newfound land fisherman. But when the salmon 
and sturgeon from the Hhannon, Columbia and 
Volga threw their round, rolling eyes on heaps 
of Hibernians, Yankees and sheepskin Russians, I 
could fairly see their mouths water with even the 
anticipated pleasure of the feast. 

The large lobsters, unctious oysters and caper- 
ing clams were at least "getting even" with the 
Dorians and dudes of Delmonico's. In fact, the 
number of saloon and restaurant ke(;pers, theatre- 
goers, pot-house politicians, midnight gamblers 
and Congressmen that were devoured that evening 
would certainly astonish the Jews. 

And, speaking of Jews, I beheld a million or 
more chickens picking heaps of them down to the 
very bones; but when the droves of hogs came 
prowling about in search of food, they rooted 
about for a second, gave one unanimous, disgusted 
grunt, and left the Hebrews to the hens. This 
Jew meat was the only thing at the feast that the 
hogs would not touch, and we could not tell, even 
at that day, whether the fact was a compliment 
I0 the hog or the Jew, so we turned away and left 
them to settle it theiiiselves. 

The hogs, sheep and cattle took particular de- 
light in feasting on a lot of old London, New York 
and Chicago slayers and packers. Each had th(Mr 
"Armour" of vengeance on, and ordered butchers 
on toast. There was one bouncing butcher from 
Chicago so large and weighty that he furnished 
food, in himself, for a whole drove of animals. As 
the last rays of the dying day shone on the sands 



122 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

(>r tliis inland sea, 1 could ob^-'orvc that there was 
Jiolhin^ Icl'l but skeletons of ihe feast, sueh as 
(niply beer bodies and barix^ls, and ehanipa<T;ne 
bollb's, formerly belon'^in/'; to a Mr. Munini, ]\lrs. 
(/lie(juol Mtid Perry Jonet, French people of an- 
cient HaeebaiiMlian pi-oclivities. They were de- 
voured with the contents of their own bottles. 

(lenerosity and myself turned away from the 
de})lorable wreck and debris of human hopes, and 
dastard desolation, just as the forty full moons 
(for you must know tliat there were ten tiines 
more moons than suns in this infernal region) 
substituted the garish rays of the setting suns. 

The stars that shone from the zenith of the 
sky were nearly as large as the moons and of a 
bluish ling(\ while the large, rolling comets and 
])laiu'ts were white, leaving the mammoth red 
moons riding in ghoulish glory over all. 

The peculiar light emitted fi'om these lumina- 
ries was of such a hue that we could see at least a 
liundred miles with the nak(>d eye, and discern 
very small objects at that distance. 

After traveling along the shore of the sea and 
its winding indentations for three huiulred and 
thirty-three mih^s, we at last came to a narrow, 
deep, roaring strait or canal, dashing between two 
vast mountains whose tops seenunl, in fact, to 
pierce the somber sky, a hundred thousand feet 
above the surrounding country. Smoke curled 
up in spiral columns from the cones of the twin 
mountains, aiul stn-anis of red-hot lava leaped in 
fantastic wildness to the valley and plains below. 
We ])ush(>d our way through the jagged rocks that 
lined the strait and found it to be about five miles 



Soaring, Prophecy, Justice. 123 

long. At llic lower ond we saw it was only IIki 
outlet of the upland sea we had ju.st left, dis- 
chaj'ging its angry waters into the plaeid bosom 
of an oeean that stretched far away under the 
midnight lights of this inferno, as if its waters 
kissed an unlimilcd horizon. 

The uneasy beasts, birds and fishes were stirring 
everywhere, and the millions of men, women and 
children seemed to be forever on the run, endeav- 
oring to escape their attack. 

Occasionally we went through a rocky, swampy 
forest, the paradise of vipers, lizards and snakes 
of all climes. Under their deathly sting and fatal 
fohls we beluOd human beings in the last singes 
of })hysical and mental agony. The cries, shrieks 
and lamentations of these wretches would bring 
tears even to the iron heart of my old acquaint- 
ance, Nazer, the tyrant of Lower Thebes. Thc.'ir 
bones would crack under the crushing caresses of 
the anacondas, and yet they could not die; for 
every time one of them was seemingly devoured 
he was not, but continued in an irnfnortality of 
fear, pain and living deaih. Th(3 persons devoted 
to the sport of this paradise of reptiles were prin- 
cipally composed of hypocrites, liars, assassins, 
gossips, burglars, rapers and murderers, and "the 
woods were full of them V' 

It was curious to see the large, healthy anacon- 
das resting or hanging on the surrounding 
branches, toying, as it were, with a bad boy or 
man in his sinewy arms, leisurely working up his 
victim with all the ease that characteriz(.'s the 
Laocoon. We beheld a nest of rampant rattle- 
snakes in the crevice of a huge rock, wearing about 



124 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

tlieii* necks the too and (ingor nails of ;i lot of 
luoiiiiiain Inintors from Coorgia, in justification 
of the millions of rattles curtailed from their 
progenitors in the wilds of vanished years. A 
triple-headed tiger, with tri])le paws, held in his 
grasp the forms of Brutus, l^ooth and Guitean, 
liistoric assassins, forever whirling them around 
and crashing their bleeding heads on a pile of 
broken granite, crimsoned with the never ceasing 
ilow of their blood, and wailing with their soul- 
piercing shrieks. 

As we moved along the shoreless ocean we began 
to ascend a mountain height, and, after progress- 
ing for about five miles, a large herd of goats 
and chamois came to view, and were leaping with 
might and main to overtake a crowd of old hunt- 
ers. They succeeded in several inslances. When 
they chased their former enemies to a precipitous 
cliff, they butted up against them with their heads 
and horns, and tumbled them over the fearful 
chasm. As they fell we could hear the scream of 
delight from gray eagles and vultures as they 
P'ursued the falling wrecks of humanity. No 
sooner had they struck the jagged rocks at the 
bottom of the chasm than the birds of the air 
began to pick out their eyes and tongues, and 
strip the flesh from their quivering fingers and 
battered breasts. 

As we proceeded around ocean crags the air 
began to grow colder and colder, and the distant 
upland was covered with what seemed to be eter- 
nal snow. Black forests stretched away to the 
right and illimitable plains rolled aw^ay to our 
left. Rushing through the woods, we could see 



Soaring, Prophecy, Justice. 125 

reindeer driving long trains of Enssians and Sibe- 
rians, hitched up to curiously fashioned sleighs. 
A large party of Buck reindeers, with their does 
and fawns, could be seen sitting back, in royal 
style, taking a family drive along the waters of 
v/hat looked like the upper Volga or Lena. A 
team of thirty-three Eussians, Polanders or Sibe- 
rians was harnessed to each vehicle by skin ropes 
made from the hides of the natives. The Buck 
deer used one slender catgut rein that passed 
through the left ear of each human being, and 
with his forefeet and horns he managed to ma- 
nipulate the line with as much tact as we had 
often observed drivers use on the old eartH. The 
speed was rapid. Numerous trains of Laplanders 
were scurrying over the snow, and the old gray- 
headed dog drivers were barking with great de- 
Jight as they lashed up the people who had 
starved and beaten them to death in the long ago. 
The former masters of these dogs looked very 
lean, and when one of the low sledges would halt 
for a moment near skirts of stunted underbrush 
the train of "Laps'' would rush to the small 
shrubs and devour the branches and bark, down 
to the very heart. And when night came these 
tired creatures were left outside, to huddle to- 
gether around the ice huts of their dog masters 
or prowl about the midnight camps in search of 
the remains of tallow candles or the entrails of 
their comrades. One morning, as the four suns 
rose over this subterranean world, we suddenly 
came in sight of a great extended city, situated 
along the indentations of the wonderful ocean we 
had traversed a few days previous. 



laS Brickbats and Bouquets. 

In the suburbs of the city we passed hundreds 
of worn down, blistered backed, ham-strung, knee- 
halt, slipshod, blind, epizootic Irishmen, Dutch- 
men, Englishmen, Frenchmen, Italians and New 
Yorkers, being whipped, pounded, clubbed and 
driven almost to death in heavy loaded carts, 
drays and wagons by the self-same brutes that they 
abused and destroyed in ancient times. 

There was one man, head and shoulders above 
those that surrounded him, as he walked along 
the wide streets, who seemed to take a modest 
and silent delight at the spectacle of what we 
heard him utter in modulated tones, ^'poetic jus- 
tice" "poetic justice," *^poetic justice." As the 
donkeys, mules and horses drove by, seated on 
their cart seats, and wielding a gad or blacksnake 
whip over the backs of their former drivers, I 
could see them, with a flash of joy in each eye, 
wag their ears and tails in homage to this noted 
man, who bore the name of Bergh in the old world. 
He lifted his hat, smiled a kind of sad smile, and 
occasionally dropped a tear at the forlorn but 
merited condition of the brutes of his own race. 

After traversing these zigzag windings, we were 
swept one morning into a great rush of beings, all 
tending one way to the — 

UNIVERSAL DERBY COURSE. 

Beasts, birds and shoals of fishes along the 
streams and shore of the ocean were out in their 
gayest furs, feathers and scales. And the thou- 
sands of variety of human beings that were being 
driven onward with a rush by the animals was a 



Soaring, Prophecy, Justice. 127 

grand but fearful sight to behold. The race- 
course lay in a valley along the ocean, surrounded 
by circular hills on three sides, resembling a mam- 
moth amphitheater ten miles in circumference. 

The fishes occupied front waves along the 
streams and shore of the ocean. The birds were 
perched on trees and rocks in the left foot and top 
hills, while the beasts of all kinds and climes held 
the right and center, with the snakes and reptiles 
crouched at their feet near the margin of the 
smooth racetrack. The grandstand was in the 
center, and the judges' stand in front of that. It 
was occupied by nine asses, donkeys and he horses 
who were to be judges of the grand human race, 
the last and only one of the season. 

Exactly at twelve o'clock in the day, ninet}^- 
nine well-equipped monkeys, dogs, donkeys and 
young stallions drove up in light but strong road- 
wagons, and harnessed to each, in tandem, were 
thirty-three human beings who once drove at the 
Olympic games, the Roman Corso, the Downs, 
Sheepshead Bay, at the Chicago and the Louisville 
races. All the animals in the grandstand, quar- 
tcrstretch and pooling places were wild with ex- 
citement, and a financial anxiety was pictured in 
every face. 

The lady animals bet bunches of rare feathers, 
furs, sweetmeats and fine fruits, and bang-up sup- 
pers at the Hotel Shark, Fox, Lion, Bear, Bull, 
Dog or Cat, after the race was over. 

The loud cry, bark or scream and howl of the 
pool sellers could be heard for exactly five miles 
away. Millions of wares and money had been 
staked on the issue. 



128 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

It was exactl}^ five miles around the track, and 
the human animals had to go three times without 
intermission before the grand, gay and glorious 
fifteen-mile race could be decided. At the thun- 
der roar of an erupting neighboring volcano, 
touched off by the Great Ass Starter, and the 
exclamation "go !" the ninety-nine teams, in their 
ninety-nine colors, dashed under the grapevine 
and began what is remembered to this day, the 
most memorable race on record. As they passed 
Ihe quarter-post a yell went up for "England!" 
"England !" "Hurrah for England !" 

When the half-mile post was passed the myriad 
of animals that sw^am, sat or roosted around the 
amphitheater rose to their tails, claws and feet 
and gave a loud yell for "France !" "France !" 

When the three-quarter stretch was gained, a 
Toar, as if out of the clouds, went up and down 
for "Kentucky !" "Kentucky !" but w^hen the front 
team ambled up gayly under the vine for the first 
continuous heat and passed on around the course, 
you could hear the most sonorous triple echo yell 
that ever struck animal ears, of "Thebes!" 
"Thebes !" " 'Eah for Nazer and Thebes !" 

And as the Tlieban tandem spurted about the 
ring with a gayety and ease astonishing to the 
countless spectators, and once more trotted under 
the vine, all could see that it was a "walk-over," 
and many of the betting beauties and speculators 
began "to hedge" and sigh for their fading wealth. 

On the homestretch, for the last time, many 
of the teams were entirely disabled, some of them 
down on track, driver, and trotter shouting and 
yelling in defeated heaps. 



Soaring, Prophecy, Justice. 129 

All had been left as wrecks alon^ the course but 
"Sheepshead," "Kentucky" and "Nazer," the lat- 
ter still holding the lead, with a terrible deter- 
mination to "get there" or burst his heart, al- 
though "Kentucky" was so close at his heels that 
within a hundrcd'^yards of the final line they were 
neck and neck. 

At this moment the whole conclave of animals 
rushed toward the ropes of the track, and the 
judges' stand, and with one universal roar that we 
1-hall never forget to our dying day, the two bipeds 
jiassed under the vine, and at once the nine judges 
decided unanimously that the great Plutonian 
])erpetual race, human and otherwise, was won by 
ilie neat, nimble, national and notorious Nx\ZER. 



130 Brickbats and Bouquets. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

FATAL FACTS IN PROSE AND POETRY. 

Wrong is ruin. 

* 

God is All; All is God. 
* 

Reason has no reason for love. 
* 

There is no death — God is life. 

Eternity is now; now is eternity. 
* 

Manhood is greater than masonry. 

Conscience is greater than catholicity. 
* 

Revere only brains, bravery and beauty. 
Great obligations generate ingratitude! 
Doubt is death to friendship. Love is life. 
The atom is the globe, the globe the atom. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 131 

Adversity is the crucible that proves genius. 

Peculation, and not the prison, is the shame. 
* 

A supremely dignified man needs watching. 
* 

We die with the living and live with the dead. 
* 

He who boasts bursts. Gas and glory are antip- 
odes. 

* 

Admiration ripens into love, love into immor- 
tality. 

* 

You hurt whom you help, and receive secret 
curses. 

. * 

The sun, moon, and stars have always been and 

will be. 

* 

He who will not keep his word will not keep 

his note. 

* 

A pin jHinctures a bladder as a word punctures 

a boaster. 

* 

There can be no real happiness where fear sits 

enthroned. 

* 

Friendship is interest, love is respect, and pas- 
sion is lust. 

* 

The highest prosperity is often the first stepping 
stone to ruin. 



132 Brickbats and noiujucts. 

I'm' I rue voui-scif, mid yoii inspirii and vWc'ii. 

liMilh in ollicrs. 

* 

l«jjnorniic(' is llic mother of l»i,L')>'rv iind the 

fallicr of criiuo 

* 

(lovcrnmcnl was iiiadc for man and nol man 
for ^^ovcrnmcnl. 

I'lcasnri^ of {\\o mind is lasting; llial of tho 
liodv culicmcral. 

A philosopluM' ill ra;::s will last lon^LTcr than a 

])rin("> in pnrpic 

* 

Mv dnlv l)('loni;s (o my conidry, my soul lo tny- 

s(lf and mv (lod. 

♦ 

SonI is supreme over body. One is immorial, 
ili(> oilier morlal. 

Money is tlM» molorman of life and the axlr 
grons(» of husitu'ss. 

MMie mistakes of Moses are only mateluMl by {\w. 
mistakes of memorv. 

r.irth, life and death an> the o\\\\ mih^stonrs in 

ihe world's hi^hwav. 

* 

War and wisdom ai'e twins tin* prodigal son 
and his eldi>r hrollier. 



nn^ams nvv the advance uuai'ds (d' the S(ud on 
its mnreh to (>tcrnitv. 



l^'ntal I^'icts in l^rosc and Poetry. 133 

Tlic cou.-ii-d liiilcs llic hr.'ivc iiiaii. Lciok ;il, his 
fiirlivc, innlicious (wc. 

L()V(( is ii sjx'cics of iiisiiiiily, and cools (jiiick- 

('s(, vvl.H'M iiiosi rcrvciil. 

* 

KjiIc ciilliii^^ by railronds will some (lay rv- 

HuK ill liii'oal ciillin^. 

* 

,I'i'os(!C'uti()U is ol'IcM jXTSc'L'ulioii, law liciii;.;' used 
for personal vongoance. 

Ashes of hope and Icai's ol' re^i'el are (he saddest 
Miciiiorials of aiiihilion. 

No sioriii or hallle ever eoiKjiiered a hrave man, 
I<]ven in dealh lie lives. 

TUv praise ol' a i'ool is censure?; Ihe (;ensur(! ol* 
ft philosopher is pruiso. 

Ik 

liiheily is doin^^ what you j)lease ; (yranny is 
d.)in_ti' what olhei's ])Ieaso, 
* 

A lillle 'M)lood lellin^" al ]iead(|uar(ers is f)flen 
IxMiedeial (o lail(|uariefs. 

We're tluire no shiphuilders, ihci'c would he i\o 
sailors or ocean comnieree. 

l''ar heller lo live and lau/^h in a hul Mian han- 
<|uet and weep in a palace. 

Music dealers and lloiisis are pioneeiv and ])ro- 
moiers of love* and heaiily. 



134 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Light, liberty, and Lincoln, the triple links 

of American Odd Fellows. 
* 

Ancient Pagan Gods had as much substance as 

modern Gods — Imagination. 
* 

A -larving man would give a bushel of dia- 
monds for a bushel of wheat. 
* 

Heed not what others say of you. You are in- 
jured only by your own act. 
* 

The greatest and best have been victims of 

envv, malice, exile and death. 
* 

When virtue is for sale, vice is the highest bid- 
der, and ruin is the auctioneer. 
* 

Fire, air, water and earth are the only elements. 

Man is a combination of these. 
* 

A rich, inebriated fool makes a bad citizen; a 

sober laborer makes a good one. 
* 

Woman seldom seeks a refuge in reason. Pas- 
sion and sympathy rule the sex. 
* 

Are you loved for wealth or power? Love de- 
parts when these trappings fly. 
* 

A wise mind is like a stone house full of corn ; 

it is safe from rats and robbers. 
* 

Pjotestant people are principle patriots. ^^Kick- 
ers" are the Knights of Progress. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 135 

(Jratitiide, like the morning-glory, dies in a day. 

Ingratitude lives to a ripe old age. 
* 

It requires truer courage to face fasliion and 

public opinion than to face bullets. 
* 

Confidence begets happiness; genuine pleasure 

can't be purchased. It's inborn. 
* 

He who has lost an arm, a leg or a cause will 

never forget, and seldom forgives. 
* 

Depending on others is weakness or perfidy ; 

depending on yourself is pleasure. 
* 

Bitter experience is the graduating school of 
reason. Misfortune is the teacher. 

One man right is worth a million wrong. The 

world is us; we get what we give. 
* 

Vice and virtue are trotting mates, hitched and 
harnessed together for L'"ood and ill. 

A friend is your facsimile — one soul in two 
bodies. He doesn't live and never will. 

Ninety-five per cent, of human asses are ridden 

by five per cent, of intelligent tyrants. 
* 

Soul, body, and material things are all that's 
given to man — his only working tools. 
* 

Human friendship is like frost before a hot 
sun — melts at the first touch of trouble. 



136 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

He who has the reputation of being a liar will 

not be believed when he tells the truth. 
* 

Intemperance, poverty and licentiousness are 

the principal causes of family separation. 
* 

Never obligate yourself to an inferior person. 

He will humiliate you in time of trouble. 
* 

Mind estate is better than real estate. God 
forecloses the mortgage on the former onlv. 

Preachers, like air shafts, are escape valves for 

devotees of delusion, credulitv and bigotry. 
* 

The brave man who dares to reason is ever a 
shining mark for the arrows of the ignorant. 

"Sixteen to one" ratio between silver and gold 

is like sixteen patches to one pair of pants ! 
* 

There is no God but God, and Mohammed was 
a bloody fraud, forcing religion with the sword. 

A grand thought is the mightiest lever, and 
with truth as its fulcrum can move the world- 

The saddest songs are the sweetest echoes of the 

heart. Conscience and memory enshrine them. 
* 

Reciprocity is rectitude. What you claim your- 
self grant to others. Cane suger vs. beet sugar. 
* 

A kind word is a torch for love and liberty, 
while a bad word is poison to the heart and soul. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 137 

The candles of truth and knowledge illumine 
the darkest night, and lights you beyond the grave. 

The tiller of the soil is the universal butler of 
the breakfast table. Without him starvation would 
reign. 

An honest God is the noblest work of man. God 

makes us natural; fear makes us artificial and 

cruel. 

* 

Public schools are the light-houses of liberty. 
Bayonets and ignorance are the bulwarks of mon- 
archy. 

Shakespeare is a quenchless candle, throwing 
eternal light across the mountain tops of civili- 
zation. 

The oppression of the individual is the de- 
struction of the state and the downfall of public 

virtue. 

* 

Billions of creatures have lived in various 
forms, and billions of cycles we shall live ever- 
lasting. 

Politeness and modesty are current coin every- 
where. Force and fraud are the instruments of 

tyrants. 

* 

Tranquillity and indifference to personal con- 
sequence are the greatest elements of the true phi- 
losopher. 



138 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Constant change is the ln^' of nature. There 
is nothing lost; ever3'thing lives, only form 
changes. 

Do what you will, hlame follows the best, but he 

who acts from his highest knowledge, may excuse 

himself. 

* 

A library is the sanctuary of intellectual 
ghosts, diffusing its light^ love and logic through 
the ages. 

Soul is the breath and will of God — body the 

vehicle of thought — material things are but toys 

of to-dav. 

* 

Eain and hail break through an ill-thatched 
house, like impulsive passion through a thought- 
less mind. 

* 

A man contaminated with sensuality carries 
about with him continual hell-fires of suspicion 
and doubt. 

When you tell a man he's a liar, hit him hard 
at the same instant, and he will be respectful in 
the future. 

The wise man is he who never lets the sun rise 
or set on his daily life without mental and physi- 
cal pleasure. 

You can afford to talk much if you talk well. 
Otherwise be silent. Silence is unassailable and 
invuluerable. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 139 

Poverty and modesty to the wise man have no 
terrors, bnt to the coward and fool they are chains 
and shackles. 

Most men are like large hickory nuts without a 
kernel; light weight and valueless; fair without, 
rotten within. 

* 

He who has the fewest wants is the happiest. 
Every unsatisfied desire is misery, a nail in the 
coffin of hope. 

* 

Prosperity and adversity are like silk hats and 
sunshine and umbrellas and rain. Everything fits 
in somewhere. 

* 

The tongue is sharper and more fatal than a 
Damascus blade. Its wounds are incurable; that 
of steel heals. 

* 

Civil service is a blister from the back of 
British bureaucracy, and a lie on the philosophy 
of a Eepublic. 

* 

God is responsible for everything. And while 
we have so-called "free will,'' we could not use it 
without Him. 

* 

A contented mind is victuals, clothes and shel- 
ter. No sad situation can give perturbation to the 
wise and just. 

* 

A petty jury is twelve human asses listening to 
quarreling lawyers, and finding verdicts on judi- 
cial suggestion. 



140 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

By the will of God (of course) the nation with 
the most men, money, guns and bravery is vic- 
torious in war ! 

* 

Inordinate greed often loses the substance in 

hand for the shadow in the distance. Grabbing all 

catches nothing. 

* 

The brightest and sweetest flowers decay in a 

day. The thistle, thorn and rag weed linger 

through the year. 

* 

Self-reliance should be your constant traveling 

companion; nature your conductor, furnishing 

round-trip passes. 

* 

Eeflection and reason can cause a man to estab- 
lish himself in a position that no flood of adver- 
sitv can overturn. 

Offices are presumed to be a public trust, but 

they never have been and never will be anything 

but a private snap. _ 
* 

Hold the reins of your anger and do your own 

driving, and if there's a runaway you can^t blamu 

the tiger on the box. 

* 

Frequent battles at the ballot-box, like bad 

weather, are necessary to clear up and purify the 

political atmosphere. 

* 

Fine clothes and jewels often shield a scoundrel, 
while philosophers in rags are exoosed to the con- 
tumely of cutthroats. 



Fatal Facts In Prose and Poetry. 141 

Hope and imagination are the wings upon 
which ambition mounts the Alpine crags of oppo- 
sition and misfortune. 

* 

The first step in crime is the last step in hap- 
piness. A cracked character, like a broken egg, 

can never be mended. 

* 

There is not a living thing that does not feed 

upon some other thing, living or dead. We live 

to die and die to live. 

* 

The deepest sorrow has no voice. Like mountain 
lakes, it only mirrors the storm clouds and rock- 
ribbed crags of nature. 

* 

The lamp of reason, like the midday sun, lights 

every cranny of the mind, but cannot mend the 

cracks of a broken heart. 
* 

Mediocre midgets of mankind live long, love 
scandal, and go down to forgotten graves like 
poison-vines of humanity. 

The perpetuity of a nation is found in its 
schools. Happy, bright and decent children are 
the jewels of a Republic. 
* 

A scrub may be known by his ignorant sneer, a 
statesman by his sense, a politician by his furtive 
eye and fisliy handshake. 
* 

The geologist is the genius of the rocks and 
rivers and presents us the spelling-book of nature, 
as shown in terra firma. 



142 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

A silent barber is a smooth shaver. A talking 
customer is a nuisance. A keen, sharp razor, like 
beauty, is a joy forever. 

Genius must walk alone and cut a road through 
the tangled forest of ignorance with the broad- 
axe of courage and truth. 
* 

A bad man shuns the light. xA.s a rat, he gnaws 

in the dark. The sun shines little on thieves, 

millionaire ones excepted. 
* 

No uttered word is ever lost. Like the zephyr 
or the storm it is the voice of God; eternal 
like the rainbow of hope. 

Were there no makers of cruisers and battle- 
ships, there would be no captains, commodores, 

admirals or naval victories. 
* 

Sorrows are sent us by the Creator to plume 

our flight for happier lands and soothe our souls 

with the eloquence of grief. 
* 

Tyrants and trusts are s3aionymous terms, and 

if the people don^t tear them to pieces, they will 

tear and devour the people. 
* 

Women and reason are strangers, and might be 

married in the Catholic Church. Consanguinity 

would not forbid the bonds. 
* 

Chemistry is the cauldron of nature out of 
which man "evolves his greatest practical blessings. 
Great boiling pot of Jehovah! 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 143 

When all else fails we should appeal to our 

own soul as the court of last resort, and no power 

on earth can reverse its decree. 
* 

Doggerel rhymers and verse makers think they 

are poets; poets think they are philosophers and 

philosophers know they are fools. 
* 

A pound of beef, bread and coffee to the poor 

is far better than all the charity sermons ever 

preached from cathedral pulpits. 
* 

How frail is the greatest character. A plate 
of fried onions conquered Napoleon and the bullet 
of Booth ended the lofty Lincoln. 

The evidence of an acknowledged thief is worth- 
less. He will perjure himself for pay and per- 
sonal immunity from punishment. 

Destiny gave us the Philippine Islands, but bul- 
lets and bullion were the agents, and these are 

the friends who will keep the gift. 
* 

Truth is the absence of a lie. Truth is nature. 

A rich licentiate and drunkard is often a welcome 

guest. His gold gilds his crimes. 
* 

The gilt cover of many books is more valuable 

than the contents. A bad book, like a cancer, 

silently eats into the bodv of virtue. 
* 

Distillers, brewers, vintners and tobacco manu- 
facturers are nothing but wholesale butchers of 
beauty, love, rectitude and intellect. 



144 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Virtue and vice are twin sisters. Wealtli makes 
vice virtue on the surface. Poverty makes virtue 
vice. Speech is the vidette of action. 
* 

He who is "long" of talk is short of deeds. 

The greatest gas-wells are soonest exhausted, but 

the gold mines of the earth never fail. 
* 

Woman, like a butterfly, is caught by the glare 

of fashion and power. Pompous man is caught 

by woman. What a fool ! Ever thus. 
* 

The true and ])rave soldier is he who looks death 

in the face, turns pale and strikes for freedom. 

His canteen of courage is never emptv. 
* 

The strongest and tallest mountain oak and 

pine feel the most destructive storm. The scrubs 

and the underbrush at their base survive. 
* 

Barbarians and savages are nature's noblemen. 

The wild plains, forests and mountains produce 

honest ignorance and unchained freedom. 
* 

A poor sinner without money goes to Sing 
Sing; a rich robber goes to the Senate. The art 
of stealing according to law is a great gift. 

The nation that rules commerce and thirteen- 

inch guns of the sea rules the world. We need 

more battleships with fortv kiiofs an hour. 
* 

The Congress of the TTnited States is often but 
the mouthpiece of lobby attorneys, tariff footers, 
steamship companies and railroad robbers. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 145 

Health, reputation, friends, family and cash 

are lost in the bar room or murder mill, with no 

recompense but ruin, remorse and despair. 
* 

Personal pets with political Presidential power 
are peevish, petulant patriots ; pretenders, prevari- 
cators, peripatetic pups for private plunder. 
* 

The fact that Old Al])i()n has been a robber and 
murderer for a thousand years is the best reason 
that its age limit of crime is nearly ended. 

Hypocrites live in reed houses, iliiiikin,c^ Ihom- 
selves cloaked and hid. They are as transparent 
as glass, and their false tongues betray them. 
* 

The nimble nickel and almighty dollar are the 

living gods of an American. He exclaims in his 

heart, "I'd rather be rich than be President." 
* 

The man who applies to a horse doctor for a 

cure for his stomach, eye or decayed tooth should 

wear the skin of an ass and the cap of a fool. 
* 

Wealth, luxury and licentiousness are triplets 

of national decay, microbes of sure dissolution. 

The tree that fades at the top has rotten roots. 
* 

Scandal mongers are natural liars, and liars are 

the pioneers of jealousy and fraud. Jealousy is 

the hate of the wicked for the strong and great. 
* 

Humanity is like a large chestnut or cheese. A 
lew fat worms devour its substance and vitals, 
leaving only the shell and skin to meandering mice. 



146 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Be sure you are on horseback when little dogs 

bark at your heels. The fate of a barking dog 

is contact with a stone or club in the moonlight. 
* 

Hotels and railroad depots are like ant hills, 
with little things forever coming and going, not 
knowing from whence they came or whither they 

go- 

* 

The civilization of Alexander, Caesar, Machia- 
velle, Marlborough, Bismarck, Napoleon and Web- 
ster, taught people to cajole, deceive, conquer and 

kill. 

* 

The scaffold has held many a lofty patriot, the 

senate marv a parvenu and Pontius Pilate. The 

mansion of the governor is often the residence of a 

thief. 

* 

Interstate commerce and trust laws are treated 
like poor relations at a wedding, receiving smiles, 
scraps and attention when the "quality are 
served." 

Poor victims of poverty and sin are helpless 

under the control of legal keepers and soulless 

tyrants, whose crimes are worse than those they 

manage. 

* 

The astronomer is the interpreter of heavenly 
bodies. His telescopic eye spans the universe, 
and his soul soars where suns and stars reign 
eternal. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 147 

Eotation in office is the greatest guarantee of 
the perpetuity of the Republic. Continuous 
office-holding breeds arrogance, corruption and 
tyrants. 

All dread the maiming and mortification of 

the body, but very few care for the mortification 

of ihe soul. Yet one lasts for a day, the other for 

eternity. 

* 

A poet is only happy and really alive when he is 
dead. Then the wagging world heartily shakes 
his hand and hugs the memory of his magic 
numbers. 

A small stern-wheel boat is a very noisy craft, 

while a grand ocean steamer holds her swift and 

silent course to the docks of duty. Men are built 

that way. 

* 

The slanderer gets back the echo of his own 
voice, and the poison he maliciously injects re- 
bounds in a double quantity. His tongue is a 
boomerang. 

* 

Inflexible determination, diligence, prude^ice, 
generosity, self-control, and courteous behavior 
will make a man eminent, and fondly remembered 
when dead. 

The mortals who cannot fly in your sphere 
only know you through their envy and malice. 
Have contempt for their praise and respect for 
their censure. 



148 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

TluMT is no juliniiiistration of biw in Iho Unilorl 
Stales lliiit can imprison or liang a niillionairo 
rohhor or murderer, if he understands legal and 
social bribery. 

Don'i expecl too nuieli from your friend, liike 
yourself, be is a daily sinner in word and deed. 
Nothing pure and perfect but Ood. Who is He? 
] don't know. 

If there is a hell, and there should bo, tyrants 
and ingrates without accountability ought to bo 
yoked together and lashed forever through the 
fires of riuto. 

The night is short to those wlio sleep, but the 

weary and tronblcMl ])rain finds it long. A mile 

to the ho])eful and strong is short, but long to the 

sad aud tired. 

* 

An absolutely honest gand)ler uever lived. 

Soon(M- or later adversity and pinching poverty 

will force him to cheat, which is only another 

name for theft. 

* 

Insolence, arrogance and tyranny are more de- 
structive to a city than fire; one is limited and 
extinguished in a day or two, the other may con- 
tinue a century. 

Monuments to the (h^ad are mostly contribu- 
tions of th(^ living to their own vanity. Many a 
man gets a monument, who in life could imt get 
a meal or a dollar. 



Fatal Facts In Prose and Poetry. 149 

'I'lic ljri<;iii('st sun holds tlie greatest storiii. The 
greatest storm shields the brightest sun. The 
whitest cloud cloaks the blackest; the blackest has 
the brightest lining. 

The finest poetry is found in prose. The Lord's 
Prayer, Sermon on the Mount, Hamlet's solil- 
oquy and Lincoln's Gettysburg speech are sam- 
ples of lofty thought. 

* 

Beauty and love are like dew and sunshine; 

they brighten where they reign, destroying grief 

and pain; welcome guests in every bower — the 

greatest earthly power. 

* 

Novelty is the pioneer of pleasure, and some- 
thing new and glittering is as welcome as a rattle 
in th(! hand of a (;hild; but soon fades away like 
bubbles on the wine cup. 
* 

If all the hypocrites and legal robbers were 
jailed, the world would be as lonesome and soli- 
tary as the desert of Sahara or the lofty crags 
and forests of the Andes. 

The storm sounds are superior to the grass and 
trees. So must the ruled submit to the ruler. 
Some one must command. Obedience and order 
are twin sisters of nature. 
* 

Brokers are double dealers. They live by gar- 
ish, gilded show, expectation, deceit and daily du- 
plicity. The foolish traders,. Jike flies, are caught 
in the meshes of Mammon 



150 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

The cautious man may accomplish some great 
tiling in a lifetime, but the heroic desperado 
leaps into lasting fame in a day. Success or death 
is the motto of great minds. 

The Athenians, with all their boasted liberty, 
intelligence and art, were the most envious and 
malicious tyrants of antiquity. Socrates, Solon 
and Plato felt their venom. 
* 

A miracle is the imagination of designing fa- 
natics, the pretenses of high priests and prophets 
for pence and pounds. Oxygen, hydrogen and 
carbon hold the only miracles. 
* 

If a farmer wants a field of potatoes, he must 
plant the tubes, keep out the weeds, hoe the hills 
and pick continually the festive potato bug. God 
helps those who work and wait. 

The people of the United States must watch 
continually the sleek saints, else they, like those 
of other lands, will become the unconscious victims 
of Machiavellian manipulation. 
* 

Words are sharper than knives or razors, 
stronger than trip-hammers, steam, or electricity, 
and more destructive to families and nations than 
bayonets, bullets and dynamite. 
* 

A blunt, brave and brilliant man will be vilified 
and crucified for telling the truth. It is danger- 
ous to tread on the toes of vested tyrants, but 
martyrs for right fear no fate. 



Fatal Facts In Prose and Poetry. 151 

Kings, princes and potentates cannot live in the 
atmosphere of a Eepublic. Public schools and 
science are gradually but surely extirpating the 
vermin of royalty and bigotry. 

A rusty plow makes poor crops. Rope reins 

hold the hands of ignorance. The shed, stable 

and barn indicates the bank account of the farmer 

and the fences betray the beef. 
* 

A man convinced against his will is like a stub- 
born bull chained behind a rapid road wagon; he 
may pull back and bellov/, but he must go with 
the team to the end of the route. 

The ablest and most eloquent hypocrite will 
make the most noted doctor, lawyer, or preacher. 
His pretense must be lofty if he wishes to succeed. 
He must play the veiled prophet. 

The story of Adam and Eve and the devil in 
the apple orchard of God is regarded now by 
common sense people as one of the passing jokes 
of Munchausen or Tom Ochiltree. 

The ink from the pen of the poet outlasts the 
blood of the martyrs. Their memory is sooner or 
later lost, but the footprints of thought on the 
rocks of ages can never be effaced. 

When you rise in the morning ask these ques- 
tions: Who am I? Where shall I go? A true 
answer will give you peace for the day. A false 
answer, misery of mind and body. 



152 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Two-thirds of the Eepublican Party are in favor 

of the anti-trust law, but against its enforcement, 

while two-thirds of the Democratic Party favor its 

enforcement and are against the law. 
* 

Dick Turpin, Claude Duval, Sitting Bull, Cap- 
tain Jack, Geronimo and Aguinaldo were gener- 
ous heroes in comparison with the commercial 

pirates that bleed the public to-day. 
* 

The value of a poor picture is enhanced by a 

fine frame, but a great picture needs no outside 

trappings, like self-conscious men and women who 

are adorned most when adorned least. 
* 

He who answers a fool is another. Silence is 
the best answer to insult. Blessed is the man 
who can keep his temper jv^d sinile at abuse. In- 
visible angels hover over his footsteps. 
* 

An ignorant, honest bigot is more dangerous to 
society than a sharp fraud. One can be locked 
up, but the other, like a field of briars, runs at 
large and chokes the grass of virtue. 

An absolutely honest man or woman in every 
respect grows a bunch of hair in their right hand. 
Look at yours. Mine is as naked as the ghost 
of a radiance. Confess, you hypocrite ! 
* 

A man is never too old to unlearn vicious 
habits, nor too young to learn good ones. The 
life of an old tree is frequently prolonged by lop- 
ping off the spreading, rotten branches. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 153 

The man or woman who defies the frivolous 
and insipid conventionalities of society is truly 
great. The fox with a long, bushy tail in a com- 
munity of stub tails is a noble animal. 
* 

Cooks are often the conscience custodians of 
their mistress, chambermaids of their masters. 
"Where ignorance is bliss 'tis folly to be wise !" 
You know it. Don't all speak at once. 

Speech is a diplomat and vidette of action. 
Also, the greatest assassin. The tongue is a two- 
edged sword — torture and pleasure follow it. The 

secrets of the soul are pictured in the eye. 
* 

The hyphenated phrase — Scotch-Irish — is just 

about as meaningless and asinine as Anglo-Saxon, 

Protestant-Catholic, Union-Rebel, Masonic-Odd 

Fellow — muggers of matchless duplicity. 
* 

A rich ignoramus at a bar, club or hotel may 
commit an offense against decency; it's eccen- 
tricity. A poor philosopher, at the same places, 

may justly resent an insult ; it's vulgarity. 
* 

Organized society is organized duplicity; and 

those who have the greatest business cunning and 

educated audacity will lead and control the gilded 

gazelles and sycophants of pampered power. 
* 

The pretender, poltroon and hypocrite is ever 
uncharitable and maliciously suspicions. He con- 
tinually gnaws the file of folly and bitterness — 
a misery to himself and a nuisance to others. 



154 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

There would be no sculptor without clay, storn^ 

or metal. Burnt mud supports bricklayers, and 

burnt rock supports plasterers. Canvas and paint 

keep the painter. Music makes the musician. 
* 

All the bibles of the world composed and 
amended by man for six thousand years are but 
the result of his fear, hope, credulity, vanity, su- 
perstition, interest, ambition and imagination. 

The Eepublican and Democratic parties are in 
favor of the civil-service lav/, but against its en- 
forcement — only a few thousand stalled-ox spoils 
men who have the spoils favor it. Ins vs. Outs. 

Patience, perseverance and silence are your best 
friends. Too much applause at a theater calls 
more attention to the auditor than the actor. The 
people paid to see and hear him., not you. Hush ! 

The highwayman is immeasurably the superior 
of the hypocrite and swindler. One robs under the 
form of trade and law, vv^hile the other boldly 
risks his life and liberty in his war on mankind. 

Man can imagine nothing higher than himself 
His greatest act is that of copulation and pro- 
creation, and every beast, bird and fish are his 

equal in that demonstration. Then, whv so proud ? 
* 

Debate, ballots and bullets are the true safe- 
guards of a Ecpublic. Mind and money are great 
levers of national power, but cannot compete a 
moment with the cold lead and steel of the soldier. 



Fatal Facts In Prose and Poetry. 155 

Reason is the most dangerous weapon, wielded 
by the few, scorned by the many, but plougliing 
its irresistible way through states and empires, 
upsetting the rotten fabric of bigots and tyrants. 

Diplomacy is the art of intelligent lying. Ban- 
quets, beauty and bullion are necessary adjuncts of 
the trade. To lie in several languages and sing 
and play in all would fully equip a modern diplo- 
mat. 

* 

No animal can exist out of its natural element. 
The whale can't fly or walk on the earth; the lion 
can't swim under water, and man can't be a kite 
or a condor. Be yourself and leave the rest to 
God. 

Money without mind soon departs. Mind with- 
out money is suspected or rebuked. A man with- 
out money is more crippled than one without arms. 
One goes to the workhouse, the other to the hos- 
pital. 

* 

The abuse and praise of the unthinking world, 
to a wise man, is regarded with absolute indiffer- 
ence and contempt. It knows him not — then why 
should he care? The buzz of a drone has no 
Gting. 

* 

It is sad but true that most of mankind possess 
the instincts of the hog, fox, wolf, panther and 
tiger, with an occasional lion. You can pick out 
their forms and faces on the highways of the 
world. 



156 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

The briber and the bribed should be jailed to- 
gether. But the poor thief is caught in the net, 
while the rich thief tears throu^T^h it like a stur- 
geon, shark or p,hale. A bullet should be his 

portion. 

* 

A square, honest, brainy detective is one of the 

best guardians of civilization, and will not for 

a million of dollars compromise with crime. I 

admit that this kind is very scarce, yet I know of 

several. 

* 

Brevity is brains, prolixity is pedantry and pro- 
longation — a Rip Van Winkle, a Morpheus, mean- 
ingless, meandering. If 3^ou have anything to say 
or do, hit with a broad-axe and not with a tack- 
hammer. 

The tongTie is the key to the treasurv of thought. 
When the vault door is closed, the beholder cannot 
tell whether it contains millions of wisdom or 
millions of folly. It should be a time-lock com- 
bination. 

The Jew has been sharpened on the grindstone 
of adversitv, and the persecution he has endnrecl 
for two thousand years has only strengthened 
his temperance and economy, perseverance and 
audacity. 

Etiquette is the gloss of fashionable sharpers 
to keep ignorant fools at a distance, and intimi- 
date those who seek official favors. A little fel- 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 157 

]ow with a job lot of etiquette often overawes a 

statesman. 

* 

Envy is the most potent passion in man; like 
the rattlesnake, when he can't bite and inject his 
poison into some victim he turns his deadly venom 
on himself and dies through pure malice and in- 



He who is not bloated with prosperity or de- 
pressed by adversity, maintaining his tranquillity 
and manhood under all circumstances, is the truly 
great man. You may find one in a million vrho 
is really so. 

A misanthrope is far more injurious to him- 
self than to others, and often imagines that the 
world is reveling and revolving about his words 
and acts, when, in fact, it cares not whether he 

lives or dies. 

* 

It is great in a sparrow to try the flight of an 
eagle, but mean and cowardly in an eagle to imi- 
tate the screech and flight of a sparrow. The 
noble elk can't play the jackrabbit or wolf. 

Enough said. 

* 

The crawler never likes the flyer ; chained to the 

earth he gazes with pain at him who soars. The 

jackal and the hyena hate the lion; the buzzard 

and hawk fear the eagle and the sneaking coward 

hates everybody. 

* 

Contention and crime support lawyers and 



158 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

judges. The client is the fly, the lawyer the 
spider, and the judge the judicial vulture. The 
greatest criminal often sits on the bench, the vic- 
tim in the dock. 

The right to carry and bear arms by every citi- 
zen is guaranteed by the Constitution of the United 
States and town, county, state, and national au- 
thorities do not for a moment deny this right of 

personal liberty. 

* 

The spoils system of the civil service is equaled, 

if not surpassed, by the sneak system, arrogant, 

scholastic pretenders securing increased salaries, 

to the exclusion of practical citizens. A ring of 

official "rooters.^^ 

* 

Check every unattainable desire and the rook of 

regret will not croak in your ear. Be satisfied 

with little. Wanting much gets nothing. The 

boy that grabs for all the pennies, gets none. 

Think and be happy. 

* 

Coal, iron and blacksmiths are made for each 
other. Without hammers, saws, hatchets, nails 
and lumber there would be no carpenters. Mud 
and brickmakers are co-partners. They dry to 
kiln and kiln to sell. 

The greatest benefactors of mankind, Socrates, 
Christ, St. Paul, Galileo, Winkelried, Emmet, 
John Brown and Abraham Lincoln were killed 
because they tore down tyranny and promulgated 
truth and loved liberty, 



Fatal Facts In Prose and Poetry. 159 

Architects and civil engineers are fulcrmns and 
levers in the pathway of human progress. Their 
works outlast their name and fame. Who knows 
the name of the engineer of the Tower of Babel, 
Pyramids and Coliseum ? 



If the price paid for carriages, flowers and 
monuments for the dead was given to the living 
relatives, that bread, shoes and clothes might be 
bought, the world would be better off, and certainly 
show more common sense. 

Gossips, like geese or ducks, can only hiss and 
squawk. Treat vipers with a lofty, supercilious 
contempt. Toss your head and curls in the air 
and let them gabble. Like serpents, they soon 
bite or poison themselves. 

The stanchest ship, launched from the cradle 

of its creation, and peacefully riding on the tide 

of hope, can never know the rocks, reefs and 

storms awaiting its outset upon the roaring ocean 

of sorrow and destruction. 
* 

He w^ho thinks for himself is a freeman, but 
he who permits another to think for him is a slave, 
and an ass. When you act upon the advice of an- 
other you are not yourself but the other person. 
Better be dead than be owned. 

Those who retire with bellies full of strong fluid 
and food shall be wretched, but those who are 
abstemious and temperate shall sleep in peace and 



i6o Brickbats and Bouquets. 

health, without torturing dreams. Debauchery 
and degradation drown the soul. 

The greatest man is he who can stand alone in 
desperate storms, live on the least anywhere and 
hope for the most everywhere; manhood, modesty 
and perseverance are his sheet anchors — they catch 
on the rock-ribbed depths of ages. 

The hand and mind of the steam and electric 
engineer is the safety valve of the train, steamer, 
mill, factory, elevator, mansion and mine. Mil- 
lions daily depend on his good sense and sobriety, 

and he should receive double wages. 
* 

He who expects gratitude from greed will be 
disappointed. The only way to get gratitude is 
not to deserve it. Sharing 3^our cake with selfish- 
ness is only making an enemy. Better throw it 
to the dogs, more friendly than men. 

He who sees beauty in a flower has it first in 
his soul. The honest and virtuous man recognizes 
these qualities in another. Doubt the man who is 
constantly boasting of his bravery and honesty. 
Acts are more convincing than words. 

It has been my fortune, in trotting over the 
globe for fifty years, to meet many artistic, pro- 
fuse and illustrious liars, but the political liar 
who expects or holds office is the most serene and 
seraphic specimen of the whole job lot. 

A successful politician is an artistic hypocrite. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. i6i 

He understands the art of planting, reaping, and 
hiding. A great statesman is a man who feels 
the truth and tells it. In life he gets envy and 
malice; in death mammoth monuments. 

In our dying hour the memory of generous 
self-sacrificing deeds will envelop us like the 
cardiixal rays of the setting sun on which our 
fearless souls may slide into eternity with hope 
and confidence for a blissful destination. 

Place not your heart upon transitory things or 
friends; temples and towers tumble to decay; 
princes, potentates and kings pass away, but the 
mountains, and the Mississippi River remain 
through circling ages, like love and truth. 
* 

True Christianity produces the greatest good 
on the globe. It soothes and softens the ignorant 
savage, and sways the rich, intelligent sinner, 
broadening and elevating the heart and soul of 
man. Love and happiness follow in its train. 
* 

The strong man can stand and walk alone ; the 
weak, impotent and designing creature must join 
some society or monopoly to help him play the 
successful social and business hypocrite— sneaks 
and sinners against blunt and honest bravery. 

The morning of life may gild his footsteps with 
golden colors, its noon may circle a radiance of 
wealth and power about his head, but the sunset of 
his dying day Avill be clouded by the cardinal 
hues of unrequited love and blasted ambition. 



1 62 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Be ready, instanter, to defend your personal 
and legal rights, and your neighbor will show po- 
liteness and respect. Leave the bars down and 
cattle will tear up and forage your fields. A load 
of buckshot is good medicine for bluffing invaders. 

The spirit of Nero and Napoleon, vulture-like, 
is flying around the American War Department 
and White House. The voice of the rifle can si- 
lence these carrion birds. The Eepublic still lives ; 

the vultures pass away. God bless the Eepublic! 

* 

Conductors, like floor managers at a ball, should 
be extremely polite to all passengers. They 
should take their hats off to the insults of igno- 
rance, and smile at the abuse of the so-called gen- 
tleman, and never argue with intoxicated human 
pork. 

He who thinks that the follies and licentious 
eccentricities of youth and manhood can be ex- 
purgated by the wisdom of ripened age, and erad- 
icated from the blood and bone of experience, will 
find himself on the shoals and rocks of disappoint- 
ment. 

* 

Secret crimes are committed every day against 

humanity, in poorhouses, orphan asylums, insane 

asylums, public hospitals, and prisons, by keepers, 

lattendants, guards and wardens, and no account is 

given to the public. Dastard villains in secret 

power ! 

* 

€ivil service is only another name for duplicity, 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 163 

hypocrisy, sycophancy and bloated bigotry. It 

creates a class of crawling cormorants or stalled 

oxen, who only know their master's crib, chewing 

the end of comfort while there's fodder in the 

trough. 

* 

The sailor, before the mast or behind the guns, 
is the bulwark of his country and the vidette of 
liberty. The eternal requiem of the ocean chants 
dirges to his memory. Better die at your post 
than live as a poltroon. Die you must, so die 
bravely. 

Doctors often magnify a mole-hill of ailment 

into a mountain of disease. There's a fee at the 

bottom of their diagnosis. Doctors, undertakers, 

sextons and monument makers are supported by a 

corpse. Sickness and death are their main stock 

in trade. 

* 

Suns, moons, planets and stars never cease 
shining ; they may be clouded from mortal eyes, 
yet nature continues in her exact and invariable 
laws. You can bet with absolute certainty on the 
unchanging philosophy and phenomena of the 
Almighty. 

* 

Men like to be flattered and fooled, and there 
are still erected and carried on schools and univer- 
sities for the education of the bosses that rule the 
masses. It has ever been that way, and I am 
pained to think that it will continue that way for 
ages to come, 



164 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

A tree full of ripe apples near the highway of 
life is constantly stoned. A barren bn,-li i>; L.fr 
alone. So, the man full of ripe knowledge must 
expect to have sticks and stones of envy and malice 
thrown at his head — compliments from the curi- 
ous and cruel. 

* 

There never was a vacuum without an atom. 

Everything lives and moves in circles incessantly 

and eternally. This globe is but an atom in the 

multiplicity of globes. Universal destruction is 

the harmony and life of creation — construction 

from destruction. 

* 

Beware of the man who preaches and yells Ee- 
form. He only means to reform your possessions 
into his own. Reform is only a clap-trap phrase 
used by official sharpers to fool the gudgeons. A 
Punch and Judy show to rope in city fools and 
country bumpkins. 

The human face is like a variegated landscape, 
where the sunshine of pleasure and storms of sor- 
row have swept across fields of flowers or gloomy 
ridges, under the cardinal colors of the dying 
day. How beautiful the soul-lit and how horrible 
the heartless face! 

The man who cannot battle against temptation, 
thirst, hunger, solitude, scorching suns, freezing 
mows, contumely, scandal tongues, and defeat is 
not tiie man the world prizes and monuments. 
Only heroes, in adversity and defeat, conquer the 
world's lasting admiration. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 165 

A grand jury is a sink-hole of suspicion and 
scandal, often pla3^s the pait of an assassin, at 
the dictation of malicious officials and perjured 
witnesses. It is the murder-mill of reputation ; 
character it cannot touch. God makes character 
— gossips make reputation. 

Decayed teeth are delightful objects' to a dentist, 
particularly if the patient has pounds instead of 
pence. Gold tillings and a set of artificial molars 
will be just the thing for the rich rake or the 
bedizzened beauty, but extracted teeth will be good 
enough for Biddy, Mike or Jack. 

War is the natural state of man. Peace the 
condition of cowardly commerce. God is the 
commander and chief. He is ever in line of battle, 
killing and creating millions at His glorious will. 
The leaves that blossom and fall in the forest are 
emblems of God — man no more. 

I see in the forest aisles of the future the pan- 
oplied "man on horseback" leading the royal co- 
horts of corporations and trusts to trample down 
the people of the American Pepublie, and rear 
on the ruins of self-government an empire of rich 
robbers and matchless murderers. 
* 

The public, through state and nation, has never 
erected a monument* to a millionaire, but poets, 
painters, musicians and sculptors, from the low- 
liest walks of life have above their remains to-day 
all over the world splendid memorials to their 
lofty thoughts and glorious deeds. 



1 66 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

To retain the friendship and support of the 
peripatetic public you must keep them constantly 
amused under frequent obligation and continu- 
ous expectation of future rewards. The "Dear 
Public" is far more coquettish, pouty and proud 
than a Kentucky Blue Grass belle. 

A Congressional campaign, like a circus, gives 
periodical amusement to the dear voter, who im- 
agines he runs the nation, until the Congressional 
"trick mule" or clown presents his certificate of 
election and continues to take the "gate money" 

and other things, for another term. 
* 

He who marries does well ; he who doesn't, does 
better. It is horrible to produce ingrates. The 
cobra, rattlesnake, centipede and tarantula are not 
more poisonous and deadly than ungrateful chil- 
dren or friends. King Lear felt their sting. He 
lives in glorv; thev live in infamv. 

Be like the granite threshold or doorsteps of a 
temple that multitudes have traveled over, and yet 
maintains its place and usefulness through cir- 
cling ages, or like the pyramids that lift their 
lofty heads above the desert sands, defying the 
suns and storms of vanished centuries. 

The politician who fears the rebuke, anger and 
power of corporate wealth and plutocratic dicta- 
tion will never become a statesman. How cow- 
ardice kills his ambition and pretense, and the 
people will soon unhorse and forget him. They 
banish and forget even the best men. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 167 

Honest poverty and freedom in a shanty is bet- 
ter than corrupt wealth and slavery in a palace. 
One is at the bottom of adversity, and may ex- 
press any opinion; while he on the heights of 
prosperity is ever fearful of a fall, depending on 
those immediately around and above him. 
* 

Poets, painters, musicians and sculptors, have 
more real friendship for each other than any other 
class of people; their competition and jealousy 
arises from the noble spirit that inspires their 
souls, but the true and lofty artist is never envious 
of his brother, but glories in his triumph. 

Sweet is the crust with love; bitter that with 
suspicion, fear and hate. Home is not house or 
riches, but hope, respect and simple affection. 
Home is made up of two hearts, that know but 
one impulse. Poverty may blight the structure, 
but can't kill or destroy the latent virtue. 
* 

The battle fame of the warrior is as pure and 
bright as sunshine enmeshed in icy pinnacles of 
arctic sublimity, and the aroma of renown rising 
from their daring deeds spreads over the world 
with ever-increasing sweetness, like a field of per- 
fumed violets, blue as the skies above them. 
* 

Thousands of wealthy scoundrels abiding in 
palaces to-day should be in the penitentiary, but 
their riches and audacity save them. Look at 
their smooth shaven, Jesuitical faces, hog snouts, 
and thick, red-bloated visages, vulgar lips, indic- 
ative of selfishness, sensuality and tyranny. 



1 68 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

The wise know the ignorant, but the ignorant 
know not the wise. To the blind, who never saw, 
all is darkness. Many who see are blind. Th' 
mind, and not the eye, sees. Music to the blind 
is like dew and snn'to the flowers. There is no 
mnsie for the deaf and no voice for the dumb. 
* 

When a man marries he loses half of his liberty, 
and when he ceases to act and think for himself he 
loses the balance. It is then time to give the 
undertaker and sexton a job. They are too idle 
to-day and need more work. Fewer births and 
more deaths will make the world better. Next ! 
* 

The sharp, peripatetic preacher leaves a poor 

country congregation for a rich one in the city. 

His intensity and religious zeal may be measured 

by the size of his salary. The congregation is the 

soft ass he rides, and their superstition, fear, and 

social vanitv the tools of his tautological trade. 
* 

The man who says "let well enough alone" is a 
coward. Make "well enough" better and greater^ 

Forward! is the cry of ages. 

Print the cry on golden pages; 

While the Heathen raves and rages 

Listen to the seers and sages. 
* 

All religious parables, proverbs, axioms, and 
moral, ideal, poetic phrases are presumed to be 
good, but the administrations of the teachings of 
great religious manufacturers are distorted by 
little preachers, wearing six-inch hats and twelve- 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 169 

inch boots. Blind leaders leading sightless sin- 
ners. 

* 

A library is the mausoleum of mind, the beacon 
light of liberty and truth and a monument to 
vanished genius. The custodians are the sextons 
of sincerity, and the walking encyclopedias of their 
dead but not forgotten friends, slumbering with 
celestial dreams among the faded folios of an- 
tiquity. 

* 

Occasionally a rich robber, stricken with re- 
morse and spasmodic generosity, before death, 
donates to the country he has robbed and the 
people he has debauched a fine hospital, library 
or statue, one per cent, of atonement for the 
ninety and nine crimes he has committed against 
humanity. 

Pickles, peppers, potatoes and pork are far su- 
perior to pretenders, parvenues and preachers. We 
can live with the former and starve with the lat- 
ter. Windy words won't feed the masses. Your 
children cry for bread and the bishops give beati- 
tudes. How the centuries have ground the poor 

and weak ! 

* 

Millions unborn may draw from the exhaust- 
less well of the library, and still the perennial 
springs of intellectualily flow on with undimin- 
ished freshness and splendor. Thought, like the 
rills, the rivers and the glaciers, rolls avv^ay in eter- 
nal beauty and grandeur to the upland ocean of 
Omnipotence. 



170 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

The beauty of the crimson flower, the flight 

and song of the glinting bird, the low, sweet 

whisper of the gloaming zephyr and the roar of 

the winter storm are but the grand symbols of 

the Creator. Those only with God-given light in 

their soul can appreciate the matchless beauty of 

Dame Nature. 

* 

A man wdio through envy filches from a confid- 
ing fellow-man his good name, is a criminal in 
the eyes of God, and in no less degree than the 
highvvay robber. Pie is even worse. A purse can 
l)e replenished, but a reputation has to go through 
the tedious process of being rebuilt again from 
the ground up. 

Butchers, bakers and grocers cheat by weight ; 
bankers cheat by custom and art, with a play of 
religion on the side. Haberdashers and outfitters 
live by the vanity and susceptibility of their cus- 
tomers. There are occasional exceptions, when 
these pence patriots cheat themselves, but most of 

that kind are dead. 

* 

A. man who beats you with his tongue behind 
your back is too cowardly to beat you with a stick 
before your face. His spleen and envy eat him up 
from day to day, and even his surface acquaint- 
ance despise the scandal scrub, living and dead. 
His presence is an eyesore, and his tongue holds 

the hiss of a serpent. 

* 

Laws, like cobwebs, hold weak and wandering 
flies, but strong wasps and hornets break through 



Fatal Facts In Prose and Poetry. 171 

and escape. As with fish nets the clmbs and suck- 
ers are caught, the sturgeons and sliarl\:s dash 
through. So with liuman beings; the weak and 
poor are cauglit and crucified, while ricli rascals 
escape. Have a care ! 

* 

College presidents and professors are often more 
ignorant than their students, and yet were it not 
for mathematical rules strictly enforced by these 
laborious and ill-paid educators, schools and uni- 
versities would go topsy-turvy, and the boys go to 
the dogs or the devil. Theophrastus still rules by 
his wisdom and eloquence. 

To retain the friendship of a friend to the 
grave, you should hurry up and die early; for 
when your reputation and roubles are gone, the 
aforesaid friend will be out of sight and hearing. 
True and lasting friendship is based on the ideal, 
and not on the real. Love is one soul in two bod- 
ies, seldom found on earth. 

Trust tyranny and labor strikes are the skir- 
mish lines of bloody revolution and the certain 
signs of the downfall and destruction of govern- 
ment. I see the ghostly Babylonian hand writ- 
ing on the walls of this Republic, and a Euphrates 
of running blood meandering through the doomed 
cities of our trust-cursed land. 



Keep the sword of justice always unsheathed 
and crime will be slow in showing its horrid head. 
Leave it rusty in the scabbard and criminals be- 
come bold and rampant. Punishment should 



172 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

swiftly follow crime. The state that compromises 

with wrong will soon sink to decay. Power and 

wealth are lost by licentiousness. 
* 

Public popuhirity frequently ends in public 
condemnation. A man may have been an honest 
politician and statesman for forty years, and by 
one unpremeditated mistake, he loses his reputa- 
tion and oflfice in forty minutes. The public is 
a tyrannical master. It often gives lavish praise 

for vice and stingy praise for virtue. 
* 

Town, city, county, state and national bribery 
among public officials is becoming fearfully and 
alarmingly common, and unless some drastic meas- 
ures are inaugurated, and the public thieves pun- 
ished, the final fall of the Republic, undermined 
by secret corruption and robbery, and tyranny, is 

near at hand. Gangrene cats rapidly. 
* 

A barrel of whisky contains a volume of crimes. 

Eobbery, assault, seduction, arson, incest, divorce, 

insanity, murder and the potter's field are some 

of the ingredients in the cask. The rumseller and 

the rumsueker are about on a par. Two of a kind ; 

with the slight difference that one is a financial 

sharper, while the other is a confirmed fool. 
* 

There is no religion without good, and any re- 
ligion is better than none. Its tendency refines 
ignorance and brutality, and throws an air of re- 
spectability over the byways and alleys of misfor- 
tune. Religion carries a secret and sacred conso- 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 173 

lation in her prodigal liand, and flashes her genial 
radiance over the grief that darkens the grave. 
* 

A captain, major, colonel or general who se- 
cures his rank by social manipulation, under the 
forms of law, instead of battle, bravery, or blood 
is a military eunuch and a laugliing stock to real 
soldiers. Like the Turkish prototype, he simply 
frets and struts his peacock life away, a vain car- 
pet knight, pandering to power, liquor and ladies. 

Mind, method and military maneuver is all 
that's necessary to force tyrannical capital to do 
justice. A loaded gun in the hands of a brave, 
honest, reasonable man is his greatest argument, 
and courts and states bow to its dictates. Bul- 
lets are the best messengers of freedom— devoted 
diplomats of equality and executioners of slavery. 

Every increase in trusts, creeds and crowns is a 
decrease in the pers(mal liberty of the people. The 
few sharpers are exalted, the many are enslaved. 
Society is getting top heavy. When the base is too 
narrow for the turret, destruction is close at hand. 
Any religious organization, in peace or war, that 
interferes with state matters should be suppressed. 

The man witli a pick, shovel, drill, hammer, 
saw, chisel, hat-l)lock, last, trowel, printer's stick 
or needle, with good health and sobriety, is mon- 
arch of to-day, and may defy the gilded and emas- 
culated sons of trusts, rings and corporations. 
An iron muscle, sound stomach and honest-mmd 
is king everywhere. Heads up ! Forward march ! 



174 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

The eye is the window to the soul, and opens 
on the ocean of life, like the rays of the morning 
sun over Alpine peaks. 

The world k full of fruit and fiowcrs. 
For those who tvork in sunny hours, 
But thorns are ever in the way. 
Of those who grumhle night and day. 
* 

He who is tolerant and merciful with another's 
fanlts, will find toleration ; hnt he who is contin- 
nally picking the specks out of his brother's life, 
and blind to the big blots in his own, is a fool or 
a fraud, and the world soon finds it out. 

The faults in others we should lightly blame. 

When we ourselves are guilty of the same. 
* 

Woallh and power are bnt gaudy trappings of 

nil hour. The sting of the wine cup conquered 

Alexander; the stab of Brutus banished Ca?sar 

to the shades ; the point of the sword and the bite 

of the asp made Antony and Cleopatra immortal 

in their illicit love; and the aifections of Abelard 

i'.nd Heloise shall live as long as brains and beauty 

endure. 

* 

Many intelligent men meander over the world 
in search of light, information and pleasure, not 
knowing that beauty, consolation and love are 
found in the violets and daisies that grow at their 
gardeu gate. God and beauty are everywhere, 
but man renuiins obstinately blind and will not 
see and hear great Nature through her common 
face and form. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 175 

A man who bogs on the street for a nickel or a 

meal to keep him from starving will be arrested by 

pliant police, fined and sent to prison by a judge 

and half starved by the jailer. A rich fraud in 

velvets and diamonds may get drunk, insult men 

or woman on the highway, and the so-called 

guardians of the peace will call a carriage and 

send him home. 

* 

If we know and feel as little the moment after 
death as the moment before birth, what's the odds? 
The hope of an alleged heaven and the fear of a 
threatened hell will be all the same. The Nirvani 
of Buddha is good enough for a poet, patriot or 
philosopher. Creeds, at best, are a bundle of 
words l)uilt up to threaten humanity, and changed 
tlirouii:h convenience or ambition. 



'to' 



The moment the husband and wife begin to 
suspect, deceive and lie to each other^ whether 
rich or poor, that moment seals their happiness 
and effects their final separation. When confi- 
dence is gone, the home is broken. The metal pot 
may be patched up and tinkered, but it will always 
show the cracks and never again bear the same hot 

fire it did in its original perfection. 
* 

A man with a swelled head is like an ass munch- 
ing into a stack of hay, or an ostrich hiding his 
bead in the sand. His largest part is exposed to 
the laughing crowd. Yet, where ignorance is 
bliss, intelligence is grief. Poor fool, tickled by 
a word of praise — exalted by flattery or depressed 
by censure — misernble ind(HHl is the man who de- 
pends on another for his happiness. 



176 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

A fine library with glittering surroundings re- 
buffs the poor and ragged reader, an unwelcome 
guest, the sport of attendants and superintendents, 
who draw fat salaries, and put on supercilious, 
arrogant airs, trying to look wise and dignified, 
imagining, no doubt, that they really own the in- 
stitutions, when they are only hirelings. Pea- 
cocks should often look at their feet. 
* 

The cross of Christ, the hemlock of Socrates, 

the rack of Galileo, the dungeons of Tasso and 

Bonnevard, the dagger of Charlotte Corday, the 

guillotine of Madam Roland, the scaffold of Eobert 

Emmet and John Brown, will live long in the 

memories of men when temples and tyrants have 

sunk to nameless and impalpable dust. Sacrifice 

for truth and libertv is never in vain. 
* 

The brainy hypocrite and tyrant, in home, 
church and state is the successful business man. 
Heart and sentiment are strangers to his philos- 
ophy. Rule or ruin is his secret motto. He is 
shrewd enough to go to the grave without being 
found out, gets a monument from his family or 
the public, when, if the truth were known, his 

whole life had been a cowardly swindle. 
* 

In every department of government, in town, 
city, state and nation these educated "Fathers" 
so-called, are picking, boring and sapping to-day. 
They deceive even the sharpest Americans. Vir- 
gin Mary medals, scapulars, angel pictures, saints-* 
copes, beads and relics are but the commercial 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 177 

paraphernalia of pampered priests, who pauperize 
the people for pence^ pounds and power. 

Capital and labor are secretly and rapidly ap- 
proaching a deadly conflict in the Great Republic, 
and the horrible scenes of the massacre of St. 
Bartholome^v and the French Revolution will be 
nore than duplicated. Great cities will be razed 
from their firm foundations, and a wild waste of 
blood, bones, cinders and ashes will only remain. 

The hurricane approaches. Trim ship ! 
* 

Digging up the roots of wrong is the first move 
toward reformation, which must proceed from in- 
ward soul forces, and not from outward influence. 
No man is ever truly reformed by the example and 
act of another. He must rely on his own moral 
strength and firmness of purpose. Nature, in the 
river of life, says to her children : I have put you 
in the stream for action ; now sink or swim ! 

You will be accused of insanity and sacrilege 

if you dare to think above the heads of he-harlots. 

Think on; their hate is your glory and millions 

unborn will bless your memory for telling the 

truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. 

The stride of exact science is constantly killing 

falsehood. Edison, Bell, Dumont, Marconi are 

knocking out the lazzaroni of the dark ages. 
* 

A common reporter, a prize fight and horse 
editor, an editorial writer and departmental daily 
newspaper man have just about as much idea of 
Dhilosophy, rhetoric and poetry as a canal mule 



178 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

has of a Greek root, a Latin axiom or a French 
l,:roverb. But these little literary tailors of Tooley 
street must pat themselves on the back and ex- 
claim, We're the people ! Holy Moses ! Mush ! 

Roosevelt right or Roosevelt wrong, 
Roosevelt sure, is true and strong, 
Roosevelt -fights from dny to day, 
Roosevelt ever has his way. 
Roosevelt of the strenuous life; 
Roosevelt in the midst of strife; 
Roosevelt, Roosevelt, rooting ''Teddy,'' 
Royal Roosevelt^ hrave and "heady/' 



He who assails rich wrong eijidangers his own 
life. Yet his words and work for truth is sufficient 
compensation. Better be a martyr for humanity 
than a millionaire for tyranny. 

Defy the tyrant in his lair. 
And slay him when you can; 

It's always right most anywhere. 
To hill a hestial man! 
* 

A man who stabs your reputation behind your 
back is a coward and thief. He can^t stab your 
character, for God makes that, while reputation is 
made and lost every day by private and public 
gossips. Heed not the censure of the rabble mob ; 
like serpents, they have so much poison to exude. 
Your own brave soul and conscious integrity will 
be a raft, to float on over the deepest sea of 
trouble. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 179 

The horrible doctrine of the divine right of 

kings should find no place in the vocabulary of 

modern civilization. The devil himself could not 

invent a more damnable doctrine, and how the 

common sense of mankind could ever consent to 

such a gangrened wrong is a mystery to lovers of 

liberty. Out with the dung heap of royalty. 

Agitate, investigate and decapitate these devils in 

human form. 

* 

The makers of so-called moral laws, proverbs 
and creeds, have been the greatest criminals. They 
burn at the stake, torture in the dungeon, hang 
on the gibbet, kill in battle and drown in the sea, 
all those who will not believe and consent to their 
consolidated, antiquated fabrications and liquid 
lies. They call upon God, and ask His blessing 
and protection, while they slaughter and destroy 

their fellows. 

* 

Pride of character and family lineage has kept 
thousands of human beings from fraud and crime, 
as the lessons of virtue and truth learned at our 
dear old mother's knee stand like a sentinel to 
guard against the insidious encroachment of 
wrong. It is impossible to finally blast the repu- 
tation of a truly good man, who looks the whole 
world in the face night and day, and defies its most 

desperate blows. 

* 

Ideas and fame support the poet. His greatest 
"wealth is in the memory of mankind. His books 
are his monument. His necessity is the people's 
glory, and his impulsive, bacchanalian failings 



I So iMickbats and Boiu]ucts. 

iU'o ;uH'i(UMi(;il inilosltMios in ilu> |>Mlli\v:iy of liis 

iTiiown. His very iiognlivi^s Invoinc in lime liis 

posilivps. His id'r.'is Mini liinisolf mto jis opposite 

ns {\\o poK^s, Mild no ono \vi\\\\ knows liini — a 

strnng(M- (o liimsrlf. 

* 

Soir-ivsp(\'l Mild I'onsi'ious worlli is your best 
I'ojnnuMulntion. A ln<x lionrt Mnd sniMll purso may 
brin.i: yon poviM'ly, bid no\tM- sbMiiir ov ivmorso. 
A liiilo lu\'irt and biix pnrsr w ill brin.'r ixwixi man- 
vsions Mild pmvor in lirt\ but iVw ijjtMuiino ioMvs 
above vonr i]:ravo. Yonr family niav nionunuMit; 
you for tboir own vanity and tbo ]niblic ju'ido. but 
"in tbo privacy (^f ilu^ pal-UH^ your nuMiiory is a 
t^tain, slur and sbock. 

* 

A pure, fiw and iiub^ptMidiMit press is tbe 
l)riirbtest jt^wel in tlu^ diadem of (be goddess of 
libertv. Blessed is tbe eiumtry witb an unmuz- 
zled prOv^s, wbose ]>ropriet(n\ edit(U* and rejiorter 
knows tbe dilTerenee between lieense and liberty. 
A corrupt and venal pn^ss is tbe pioneer of a coun- 
try's ruin. A blackmailing newspaper bas a tbief 
for a proprietor and eilitor, uo matter wbat bis 
pretenses or prospectus. 

* 

(land)bM-s two hvc\c{ criminals; sciiMililic cbeat- 
iug and licentionsiu^ss arc tbeir trades; wine, 
wonuMi and cards and boi*senu^n are tbeir silent 
partners. To make m living bv tluMr wils, and not 
by honest labor, is ibeir uiiduigbt boast at tbe 
poker or tbe faro (able. Wben tbey can't get 
a ^'gudgeon,'' a "greeny" or genteel *'sut'ker," tbey 



Fatal l^icts in Prose and Toetry. i8i 

turn ((> anil skin ciwh ollior, like luingry sows iluit 
cui (lunr own |iroi;iMiv. 

'riu> followers (H' S(. Ani;us(in(\ li;niilins Loy- 
ola, dirysosloin, .loronio and Kii'lioliou have boon 
llio most insidious oin'mics of connnon lihorty. 
Thoy liavo sappcnl and (K>s(royod the vory political 
foundaiions of Uoww, llaly, Spain, Mexico, Cuba, 
IVru, and Brazil, and arc slowly eating into 
Fnuu'(\ (iennany, lMij;land, and making a bold 
at((Mnj)(, wilh iheir scholastic institutions to cap- 
ture the (Ireat Kepublie. 

lji(HMdiousn(\ss, luxury, lies and bribery luistened 
the downfall of Babylon, Troy, Athens and Rome. 
Kepublics rise but to fall, and history neviM- fails 
to repeat itself. A grasping, voracious nation, 
whose rulers think only of their sellish wants, 
and)itions and designs, is on tlie down-grade to 
decay, and ])ersonal corruption running riot soon 
tosses the timbers and tiMuplcs of the state into 
the river of destruction. 

It would be a good idea to make bribery a capi- 
tal otTense and dangle the briber and the bribed on 
the same "hickory linib!"^ A few prominent cases 
would lu^ viM-y salutary at this time, and check for 
a while, at least, the growing desire for political 
robbery. '^J'here are several sample cases in Ww 
nation's eye, and since law can't corral these rich 
robbers, it woidd be a not bad idea to turn Judge 

Lvnch loose for a smison. 
* 

The bright relatives and friouds of a deposed or 



1 82 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

dead statesman are generally relegated to the soup- 
table or kitchen of government office, while the 
scrub relatives of the live and active politician eat 
in the main dining room and sleep, when intoxi- 
cated, in the official parlor. In other words, a live 
jackass is more useful and powerful than a dead 
lion. Why not ? He can be used for his bray and 

ability to bear burdens, and to vote. 
* 

It is dangerous to be good and great in a com- 
munity of selfish, sordid ingrates, who only think 
of piling up pence and pounds to parade their 
putrid personality. If your soul is lofty and 
sublime, and your speech eloquent and philo- 
sophic, be sure of making enemies. The rabble 
world will hate you for what nature has deprived 
them of, and your most illustrious deeds will be 

tortured into mere accidents of fortune. 
* 

A poor devil, from the lower levels of life, who 
creeps into office by smiles and sycophancy, will 
play the petty tyrant over any unfortunate mortal 
that m.ay be brought before him; and, instead of 
acting the Good Samaritan, giving material aid, 
he sits back in his supercilious and pampered 
pride and gives the pitiful tramp a lecture on 
temperance and ninety days' imprisonment. Mce 
imitator of the lowly but lofty Nazarene! 

Hold the golden rod of expectation over your 
household and they will act the fawning friend. 
Relinquish your property rights before the sexton 
sinks you, and you'll be driven to poverty, exile 
and deat^ The ingrates will grumble^ and with 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 183 

impatience, for the insurance on 3'our life, and 
think it strange, thoughtless and ungenerous that 
you don't die. But some men are so stubborn and 
perverse that God seems to favor their longevity ! 
* 

It should be every man's ambition to leave a 
beloved memory behind him, and do some good act 
in life that may cause the grateful tears and me- 
morials of humanity to be dropped above his 
grave. 

Do some good from day to day. 
And keep your conduct pure; 

Be a hero in the fray. 

And then you shall endure. 
* 

If any man attempts to steal. 
The voter's right to vote. 
Depriving him of meat and meal. 
Thus making him a goat, 
Just load your gun on 'lection day. 
With bullets, slugs and shot, 
And prime it to the dot, 
And if he tries to steal your vote. 
Just shoot Mm on the spot! 
* 

A tattered and torn tramp, man or woman, vic- 
tim of natural ignorance and sin, is not ushered 
into a church-pew with much eclal, while a rich 
roue or scarlet beauty, with broadcloth, velvet and 
diamonds finds easy access to the inner sanctuary. 
They can subscribe hundreds and thousands for 
the "Heathen," presumptively in Africa or India, 
but really in the pulp'^. or the parsonage. "Oh! 



184 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

what fools these mortals be !" They're born every 

minute. 

* 

The parson never fails to pass the plate for 
alms. There is not a battered beggar on the street 
half as cunning, pathetic, or persistent. The po- 
lice don't "run him in" for pretense, imposition 
and vagrancy ! Oh, no ! he bogs for the Lord, 
puts the cash in his own pocket and never for a 
moment thinks of making returns. When he 
comes to die, he may be detected as an embez- 
zler or defaulting agent by Jehovah, the president 

of his company. 

* 

No mortal man ever had a real knowledge of 
God. Man's presumption and ignorance only 
work on his imagination, a poor pretender who 
tries to fool his fellows, yet only fools himself. 
The greatest and wisest of earth could not extend 
his fleeting life a single minute, v/hen the Grand 
Master says. Go ! What rot and twaddle petty 
preachers teach, when they know nothing them- 
selves, but while human asses live these sancti- 
monious skinners will ride. 

A heretic is the hero of his own opinion and act. 
A religious bigot is the bloody tool of bishops and 
brutality. Christ, the Palestine peasant, taught 
hope and benevolence along the fields, streams and 
forests, in God's pews and temples, for nothing, 
while his so-called followers teach in plushed pews, 
velvet pulpits, marble cathedrals, for the greatest 
gifts and salaries they can secure from the weak 
and ignorant masses of mankind. And all this 
for the glory of God ! Bah ! 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 185 

Christ was the loftiest iconoclast that ever lived. 
He is badl}^ needed at the present time to eradicate 
fashionable preachers, gilded pretenders, ricji 
sycophants, pelf plutocrats and Beelzebub bankers, 
that blaspheme His glorious name by their mum- 
mery worship and hypocritical incantations in 
cumbersome cathedrals ! Poor Christ and His 
humble follov/ers had only the woods and byways 
to preach and worship in, while hungry and shel- 
terless among the mountains of Judea. 

Boating, baseball, football, hurdle, boxing and 
foot races should be constantly encouraged, and if 
a "chump" or a "duffer" gets an arm or leg 
broken, he should thank God that it is not his 
neck. The Olympic games of the Greeks made 
them great. Poets, orators, warriors and states- 
men sedulously sought for the laurel crown of 
Olympian victories. Let us imitate the Athenians 
in their love of liberty and eloquence, and the 

Spartans in their endurance, truth and bravery. 
* 

A letter of resignation and acceptance between 
the President and a Cabinet clerk, instead of the 
usual hypocrisy on both sides, should be couched 
111 this heartfelt language: 

Mr. President: I resign the office of Secre- 
tary of the Treasury because you don't want me 
any longer. Yours with contempt. 

Mr. Secretary: I'm d d glad to get rid 

of you! Yours, with disgust, 

The President. 



186 l>rl(kl)ats aiul HoiKiiict^;. 

luiii) (lr«)|»s l(> llir |>:iicIi(mI llowcr iirc like kiixl 
words lo llic lowly niid MlUiclt'il. Kind woi'ds and 
iiohli", iiiis(d(islj Mcls MIC I lie lirij-Jilcsl /^mmiis in I lie 
crown of life; imd (Iiosc wlio arc nnld and con- 
HidcnHc will) llicir fellow ci'cal urcs n\iisl iiccch- 
Hiirily Ik' iiapity. 

h'ind ironls slid 1 1 never die, 
'I'/h'i/ liinjvr ever nit/li. 
The siveelesl eiirflih/ lie. 
Ami live hei/ond the slcji! 

Tlu* s(mm1 of (oil and aiixicly we sow in lli(» flcIdH 
niul seas I'tM' prospect ivo wcallh will hi' reaped hy 
oilier liaiuls, and I law in I urn simll bo reaped hy 
Hie (Irc'il Iveapei'. Tool, liMle inid^^'cls! coidin- 
nallv ci-awlinv; and hn/./in;'; for sonietldn^ lo <'al, 
Ihcii d\ni_!;' and s^oinc; we know no! where. 

llojH'. sweet liope, slill lettds us on 

lie I/O II (I this re mil I sod : 
When III is life is pusl and (/one. 

We Inisl Ihe rest irilli Hod. 



The ai'i'o/;ance and lyranny id' Ihe while man, 
hwv Ihe hiaek man, red man, and yellow man has 
heeii (o me a source of wond(M' and r(\y:r(»l. Neilhep 
of ns had anylhin«;- (o do wilh lh(» making" of our 
hlood, h(mes, hrains and color of skin. 'Phen wliy 
pul on airs over whal (lod has mad(»? Il(>, im 
donhl, nndcrslands His business, and lookin*;" oxrv 
tile reconi of llu> roeks, s(mip, suuh and stars, I am 
conliMil wilh Ihiiif'-s as lliey nn\ biu'ause I caiTl 
help inysell"! As IVipi' wisely sayH — WhaleviM' is, 
is rii^lil ! 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 187 

Seventy-five per cent, of the American people 
to-day would vote down at the ballot box the civil- 
service law, founded in fear and hypocrisy and 
executed with secret chicanery. It is a great sneak 
system, where scholastic sharpers and hedge-hog 
pretenders build up a favored class, depriving the 
common people of a voice in the selection of their 
public servants. It is "pie and peaches'^ for the 
coddled, cunning huggermugger patriots, who are 
"In," but "gall and vinegar'' to the millions who 
are "Out." 

The woman that nurses her own child in a cal- 
ico dress is a thousand times the superior of the 
gorgeous madam who hurries her offspring into 
a gilded nursery. One sweeps, sews, cooks, washes, 
and toils for the man she loves; the other dresses, 
dines, dances and deceives the rich roue she de- 
spises. He reciprocates; then come scandal and 
divorce. But they gild their licentiousness and 
iniquity with gold, and laugh at the "common 
herd." Ah! well, like grinding glaciers they 
gradually wear out and disappear. 
* 

The man who cannot reform himself cannot 
reform another. Keformation of a bad man makes 
him better for once being bad. He contrasts his 
present self with his former self, and by the help 
of God grows better. Every effort for genuine 
reform, based on pride and conscience, although 
meeting partial failure, will finally triumph. 
There is no power that can ruin a good and brave 
man. Like truth, he may be battered, bruised and 



1 88 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

disfigured every day, but with the rising sun he 

glows and shines in all his original invulnerability. 

* 

Some people think doggerel is verse, verse is 
poetry and poetry is philosophy. Poetry is poetry, 
and contains only three elements — truth, beauty 
and suhlimity. Its greatness is in its simplicity, 
and the short, monosvllabic songs, like "Home, 
Sweet Home,'' "Last Eose of Summer,'' "Annie 
Laurie" and "Old Kentucky Home" will be re- 
peated on the lips of mankind and by nations 
yet unborn, when the lofty lines of Homer, Hor- 
ace, Dante, Shakespeare, Milton, and William Cul- 
len Bryant are only remembered and repeated by 

the learned. 

* 

Spain, cruelty and assassination are synony- 
mous terms. A miracle is a bucket without a bot- 
tom or top, a barrel without staves or hoops, a hu- 
man body without brain or bowels, a valley with- 
out hills,' a sky without sun, moon or stars, and a 
river running up hill. Only Bible translators and 
expounders have the temerity to preach such im- 
possible things to the ear and mind of common 
sense. Eeason and hard work are the only roads to 
every success. He who will not or cannot reason 
is virtually dead, a constant bait and victim for 

worldlv sharpers. 

* 

When the civil service is corrupt and used as a 
cloak of hypocrisy, it is bad enough, but when the 
military arm of government is gangrened with 
doubt, fraud and voucher theft, the last days of 
the nation are approaching, and it is high time to 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 189 

trim ship and throw overboard the Jonahs who 
provoked the storm. The time is ripe for some 
Alexander, Caesar, Napoleon or Cromwell to steer 
the state. Better a great royal warrior and intel- 
lectual tyrant than a little departmental sneak 
thief. There is some dignity in great national 

criminals, but none in a footpad. 
* 

Soldier cemeteries are the brightest jewels in 
the diadem of a republic. They teach virtue, 
valor and victory. Soldiers' homes show the lov- 
ing care of a brave and gallant people for their 
disabled heroes. That nation lives longest that 
honors its fighting citizens. Patriotism should 
be continually taught in the home, schools, 
churches, amusement places, on the rostrums and 
in the legislative halls. It is the "A. B. C." of 
national perpetuity. The playthings of our boys 
should be guns, swords, horses and shijDs. Be ready 

to fight and you are seldom attacked. 
* 

" God never wrote a word or line of any bible. He 
does not use quills, pens, pencils, type or ink. He 
does not meet in earthly convocation with a gor- 
geous gang of old egotistical monks, priests, 
preachers, bishops, princes, kings, emperors and 
czars, to get out a new, revised and corrected edi- 
tion of His word. His texts are written in the 
fields, flowers, forests, crags, winds, rainbows, 
snow, seas, storms, stars, suns, moons and planets. 
Those who look closely into nature's magnificent 
map will need no agent or guide but their God ! 
Think for yourself ! Don't be a fool I 



IQO Brickbats and Bouquets. 

A hearty laugh is infectious and spreads over 
home and street like a refreshing shower over 
drooping flowers. Love and laughter rule the 
world. 

Love and laughter, now hereafter. 

Are the joys of daily life, 
Sparkling from the floor and rafter. 

Cheering ever child and wife. 
Laughing voices banish sorrow. 

Love endures forevermore. 
All shall see God's own to-morrovj. 

On some bright, celestial shore. 
* 

The true philosopher and sago are perfectly in- 
different to the opinion of the woild, taking no 
color from the vacillating mob, who damn or 
praise the same man in the same day, without rea- 
eon in either case. He should be like the loftiest 
peak of the Andes, rearing his bold crest to the 
£un and the stars, summer and winter, as vast, un- 
changeable, and grand as the roaring ocean that 
dashes against its base. The philosopher evolves 
everything for truth, from his inmost heart and 
soul, caring not for cowards, churches or creeds, 
gathering from his God the divine instinct of 
virtue and sublimity. 

* 

Stagnation and corruption would be unceasing 
were it not for the few pioneers of truth Avho have 
the bravery to inaugurate revolution and war, 
the real benefactors of mankind. AYar is the ad- 
vance guard of freedom, and the day is dawning 
when human slavery shall be seen no more and 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 191 

kings, queens, emperors and czars shall be rele- 
gated to oblivion. God speed the hour when thase 
syphilitic scions of tyranny shall cease forever. 
"I am the state/' said Louis the Fourteenth. 
"I am the guillotine," said the people of France, 
and off went the head of Louis the Sixteenth. 
Hurrah for the people ! 

* 

A healthy and well-regulated mortal should live 
to be eighty years of age, paying particular at- 
tention to what he wears, eats and drinks. The 
first twenty years of his life should be his growing 
spring; the second twenty, his flourishing sum- 
mer ; the third twenty, his ripe and royal autumn, 
and his fourth twenty should be his cold, calculat- 
ing winter of a lofty experience, waiting for the 
final sunset of his well-spent years touching even 
the hundredth milestone of life. His exit from 
this world Avill only be stepping into another body 
in the next, where his soul shall continue to live 
on through other spheres in an illimitable eternity. 
* 

A man with a million can secure any kind of 
legislation he desires, if he understands the triple 
calculus of "addition, division and silence.'' He 
should understand also the great American game 
of "poker." Legislation is legerdemain. 

Bacchus leads a hrilUant hand. 
Mirth and passion through the land; 
And gives zest to greed and gain. 
Royal over mount and plai7i. 
But when midnight morning breaks. 
O'er the streams and placid lakes. 



102 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Bacchus lays Ms victims low. 
On tropic sands or Arctic snow. 
* 

Barnacles on the ship of state become numerous, 
fat and large, and should be docked and scraped 
off at least once every four years They impede 
the sailing and steaming velocity of the old vessel 
by their suction and increase, to the detriment of 
the nation. The barnacles let loose their hold on 
the bottom of the boat with great reluctance and 
regret, but the boat gets a new lease of life, con- 
tending anew with baby barnacles, borers and star- 
fish. It is well to frequently inspect and remove 
these sea vermin. They have been the destructive 
cause of the derelicts and hulks of nations. Lazi- 
ness, licentiousness and luscious idleness is their 
mission. 

Steam machinery, electricity, air and exact 

science are gradually but surely undermining bible 

bellows blowers, and in a few more years man will 

laugh and wonder how he could be fooled so long 

by such a lot of keen religious-political pioneers 

as Zoroaster, David, Mo?os, St. Augustine, Hilde- 

brand. Constant ine, Abelard, Luther, Richelieu, 

Chrysostom, Calvin, Knox, Wesley, Campbell, 

Smith, Young and Beecher, men of extraordinary 

blood, body and bones, who pretended to be gods, 

or self -constituted agents of Jehovah. Away with 

such theoretical God makers. They could not 

save themselves from the clutch of Death one 

single second. 

* 

Miserable, indeed, is the ruler, governor otr 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 193 

prcsiijdiil who is surnjuiidcMl wiih flattering, toady 

flunkicB, cunning courtiers and false advisers. He 

Beldom hears ttie trutli, for th(!se suhordiliatc 

chameleons keep him away from l)lunt and honest 

people who tell the truth. If the ruler is weak, 

tlabby and vain, it is so much the worse for the 

country, for a strong and brilliant tyrant will 

commjind respect for his brains. But soon the 

namhy-paniby ruler is relegated to the shades of 

privaUi life by the ballots of the people, where he 

can reflect in his enforced retirement upon the 

way in which he has been fooled by corrupt flnan- 

cial fakirs and fraud friends. 
* 

Trusts and consolidated syndicates are con- 
si an ily grinding the blood, body, V>ones and wages 
of lai)or. Th(! day is surely coming when the 
lower and middle "classes of society will rise in 
tlieir frenzied wrath and literally destroy the 
pamjK'red "pluguglies" of monopoly. Some Jlein- 
zie, Martell, Danton, Blumm, Cromwell or Jack- 
eon will rise as the leader of the common people 
and sweep away the arrogant, shoddy upstart mil- 
lionaires, bank, railroad, coal, iron, lumber, real 
estate, gas, oil, sugar, bread and beef trusts. 
Drilled and educated muscle is more than master 
of money ! Theni is a day of reckoning for legal 
tyrants and kid-gloved robbers! 

Those who are continually suspecting, grumbling 
and reforming without real reason at the bottom, 
may be watched, for the cry of "stop thief" may 
be but the cloak for the stolen fox in their own 
bosom. These \{M of reforrqors are sneaks. 



i 



194 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

They never sincerely speak out ! Honest and sin- 
cere iconoclasts are the best citizens of the world. 
No selfish motives inspire their souls. Their work 
is for the ages. They are lucky to escape cruci- 
fixion, exile and death. Their blunt truth and 
God-given genius ostracizes them from mankind 
while living, but when death closes their search- 
ing and brilliant eyes, laudations and monuments 
rise to perpetuate their memory. 

* 

When hens hatch watermelons, rabbits produce 

eagles, fish spawn oranges, cows produce honey, 
and bees give milk, capital and labor will come 
together and make an even divide. Labor has 
had a great chance to unite and "down" capital, 
but every time it has tried, from the days of Cain 
and Abel to Debs and Armour, capital and organ- 
ized government have almost unanimously car- 
romed all the crackers, cheese and beef. Genuine 
common labor seems to wear its brains in its 
breeches, while capital holds its stock under its 
hat. Ah, well ! God manufactures His animals 
in His own way, and it's no use kicking against 

the thorns of nature and her laws. 
* 

The reformer should first examine, with an in- 
tellectual microscope, his own vicious habits and 
daily failings before placing his logical yardstick 
on the habits of his neighbors. A pocket looking- 
glass should not be an inappropriate article for 
the professional reformer to carry about his per- 
son, and possibly his wounds and warts, should 
he have any, might need healing and paring. We 
have seen quite a number of little people in big 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 195 

offices who imagined that they were the office. 

But the signature of power and the puncture at 

the ballot box left them like a bursted bladder or 

a corn field after a cyclone. It doesn't do to think 

you know it all ! The ice is very slippery and 

thin! 

* 

The idea of an ignorant or deluded bundle of 
blood and bones kneeling down to confess to a 
sly, crafty, educated, fat thing, who proclaims 
himself a divine agent, who will grant absolution, 
and give indulgences, for cash, is preposterous and 
outrages our practical common sense. A pain in 
the hand, leg, stomach or brain, tugging at the 
vitals of the so-called divine agent, will knock 
him into oblivion just as quick as the benighted 
and bigoted victims who kneel in the presence of 
his beatific highness. And he'll moan and groan 
like a calf with the cramps w^hen the rites of ex- 
treme unction are mumbled in his dying ear by 
another fat drake, who soon shall follow him to 
the great unknown. 

Every citizen to preserve his peace, property, 
family and freedom should prepare at once a 
first-class repeating rifle and revolver, with a 
hundred rounds of ammunition and a Ken- 
tucky Bowie knife; and hang these implements 
of necessity over the head board of his bed, so that 
in the event of any domestic or foreign tyrant in- 
vading his rights, the American workingman and 
citizen, could fly to the aid of his fellows at a 
moment's notice. Enough money can be saved 
by abstaining from beer, whisky and tobacco to 



196 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

lay in these metallic persuaders. Think! Capi- 
tal does not want to monkey with a cannon. 
Capital is cowardly. Tyrants and anarchists 

should hang on the same limb. 
* 

GOD. 

I hear in the voice of the thunder, 
The glory and grace of God; 

I see in the flash of the lightning. 
The sweep of His glittering rod, 

I feel in the rush of the rain. 
The flow of His melting tears; 

And I hear in the midnight rounds. 
The music of all the spheres. 

I see in the limitless ocean 

The swell of His heaving breast, 

And I long for the hour when I shall sinJc 
To His bosom of infinite rest. 

Virtue, like a wave of sunshine through the 
storm-tossed hoad of a mountain pine, lights up 
the darkest and dreariest life, and the man whose 
FOul is imbued with tliis divine attribute, can 
smile and laugh at the lashings of fate. Though 
he starve and be tortured in prison, or die on the 
scaffold, with the howl of tlie rabble ringing in 
his ears, no grief can cloud his exit from this vale 
of vanity and vice. 

Virtue, lihe diamonds rough. 

Within the deepest mine. 
Holds the brilliant, shining stuff. 

Like foam on ruby wine; 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 197 

And, though they never may appear 

To light the beauty's bower, 
Their virtue lingers, year by year. 

Till fate displays their power. 
* 

A great many newspaper proprietors and editors 
in the United States, who have cash and even 
brilliant brains to issue their journals from day to 
day, imagine in their stalled arrogance and super- 
cilious pride that they run public opinion and 
twist and mold people as they wish. They are 
entirely and absolutely mistaken, as could be 
shown by the presumptive conduct of Horace 
Greeley of the New York Tribune, Henry J. Ray- 
mond of the New York Times, James Gordon 
Bennett of the New York Herald, William Mc- 
Kee of the Globe-Democrat, Joe Medill of the 
Chicago Tribune, Pareon Brownlow of the Knox- 
ville Whig and Grady of the Atlanta Constitution. 
These men in their day tried their best to control 
city, state and national elections, but they were 
often swiftly swept aside by the cross-roads weekly 
and silent ballot of the mechanic and plowman. 



PRACTICAL CIVIL SERVICE. 

Question by the President: Who is the greatest 
President the United States ever produced? 

Answer by the Office-Seeker : Theodore Roose- 
velt! 

Question: Who is your Presidential candidate 
before the next Republican convention? 

Theodore Roosevelt ! 



1 98 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Question: Who will be elected the next Presi- 
dent of the United States? 

Theodore Eoosevelt! 

President: ^Ir. Commissioner, make out at 
once the certificate of Mr. Smith, as he is thor- 
oughly competent to occupy any office under my 
Administration. Loyalty to me is the only test 
for public office, which we know is but a personal 

trust. The case is closed. 
* 

The X-rays of science are penetrating rapidly 
into the corrupt cracks and rotten crannies of 
antiquated, ritualistic religion. Theology pulpit- 
pounders had better look about and hatch up 
some other job to hoodoo and bamboozle humanity. 
Sure as God and Truth reign, the people, at last, 
will think for themselves and Reason. It is a 
preposterous idea for any sane man to employ an- 
other man as general agent to take out an eternal 
life policy in G-od's insurance company! Who 
constituted these sacerdotal sinners umpires over 
men's souls? Themselves^ with the consent of 
infatuated ignorance! We are all first mortgage 
bond and preferred stockholders. Principal part- 
ners in the universal cosmogony! Original sin, 
infant baptism, marriage rites, funeral services, 
prayers for the dead, etc., are put-up jobs of pam- 
pered preachers to coax pence and pounds out of 

the pockets of purblind people. 
* 

The great and lofty Demetrius, who governed 
Athens for ten years, had three hundred and sixty 
brazen statues voted +0 him, most of them eques- 
trian, erected in the space of three hundred 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 199 

days, and yet on some tnimped-up, frivolous 
charges these toady, s3Tophantic citizens banished 
him from the scenes of his metropolitan gh:Ty,- 
tearing down the beautifnl monuments erected to 
his ability and genius, even molding some of them 
into instruments of the bedchamber ! What a 
commentary on the evanescent praise and blandish- 
ments of the public for their gallant and illustri- 
ous heroes, who are, this year, lauded to the skies 
as demigods, and the next banished and damned 
for some mistake that the warrior or statesm.an 
may have unwittingly made. When Demetrius 
was told in exile that the people of Athens had 
thrown down and desecrated his numerous stat- 
ues, he simply remarked: "They have not 
thrown down my virtues, on account of which they 
erected them !" Great soul ! Great man ! soaring 
even now over the Lilliputian politicians of his age 
and time. It is well, therefore, that the living 
heroes of to-day, in this Great Republic, should not 
be too much inflated until death closes their eyes, 
for mistakes are liable to occur, and the pulDlic 
is desperately fickle. While you live, keep aloof, 
and give them the red-hot end of the poker, and 
they'll respect you ! 

WHY? 

Why do we laugh, grumble and weep? 
* 

Why does not a man come back to earth after 
he is once buried? 

* 

Why does a man make a fool of himself and a 
nuisance to friends by getting drunk? 



200 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Why does a man deliberately lie to accomplish 

a selfish purpose when telling the truth would be 

much better ? 

* 

Why do birds, bees, and beasts build their nest, 

cells and beds the same way and never improve 

their structures like man? 
* 

Why does a woman, on a sunny day, lift up a 
handsome, short silk skirt, when crossing the 
street? Why does a man notice such things? 

WHAT. 

What would you do with a politician or states- 
man who designedly lied to you? 

What would you do as General of the Army, 

if you had the office and not the power? 
* 

What would you do if Death knocked at your 

door to-night, and said ''John, are you ready ?" 
* 

What would you say if an earthquake, volcano 
and cyclone broke upon your vision all at one in- 
stant ? 

* 

What would you think as Secretary of War, if 

the people believed you were loyal, brave and 

honest ? 

* 

What would you say if a man asked you to give 
up your purse at the point of a knife or muzzle 
of a pistol? 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 20 r 

What do you think of a man who would lend 
you a thousand dollars, without collateral, when 
you were broke? 

What would you do if you were elected to Con- 
gress as a poor man and didn't have enough money 
to pay a week's board? 

What would you do as the proprietor and editor 

of a newspaper, if you hadn't any money, and the 

typos went on a strike? 
* 

What would be your course if you were blown 

up in a steamboat, and found yourself alive in 

the middle of the river ? 
* 

What would you do at a banquet if you were 
called upon to make a speech, and the guests did 
not know you were a mute? 

What would you do if a man ran away with 
your wife and left you three small children to 
nurse, wash, dress and amuse? 

Hi 

What would you think of an army comrade, 
after thirty-five years' separation, paying the ten 
dollars he borrowed from you at Shiloh ? 

What would you say as President of the United 
States if twenty personal and political friends 
asked you for the same office the same day? 

What would you think, if they made a purse of 
a thousand dollars, presented the same with ? 



202 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

series of resolutions, and pledged themselves to 

work for six months without pay for the sake 

of your society ? 

* 

What would you say to a preacher who told 
you as an absolute fact that a man lived and en- 
joyed himself in a whale's belly for three days; 
that the present beautiful form of woman was 
originally manufactured out of a spare rib taken 
from man, and that General Joshua ordered the 
sun to stop and shine in his course an extra day, 
in order that he might have light enough to 
butcher, in artistic shape, several thousand Philis- 
tine patriots, who were inimical, as it were, to 
God's commander and chief? 

IF. 

If a handsome poet, philosopher and orator had 

a million dollars, what would he do? 
* 

If you owe a man fifty dollars and he had your 
note and you had only five dollars, how could he 
compel you to pay the debt? 

If a soldier or sailor went into battle with a 
doubt of victory, a poor gun and damp ammuni- 
tion, what would he deserve ? 
* 

If you were a l\rormon and had three wives that 

loved you, would you willingly give them up for 

society's sake and for one that didn't love you? 
* 

If a major-general and admiral had the "sweU 



Fatal Facts In Prose and Poetry. 20 \ 

head/' and took all the glory that belonged to hih 

fighting subordinates, what would be the final 

judgment of mankind? 
* 

If you ran a theater or circus just for the educa- 
tion and benefit of the dear public, sending special 
friends free boxes, and acquaintances orchestra 

seats, what would people think of you? 
* 

If you were running a newspaper, as editor or 
proprietor, would you turn down Sunday adver- 
tisements for the purpose of satisfying the public 

taste by inserting poetry, verse or dizzy doggerel? 
* 

If a double-end battleship, costing ten millions 
of dollars, running forty knots an hour and car- 
rying two twenty-inch guns, was owned by the 
United States, with Admiral Dewey commanding, 

what would the navies of the world do? 
* 

If a young, handsome and luscious lady were 

to receive an offer of marriage from a rich old 

earl, with palaces and peasants for adjuncts, and 

declined to be bride of the aforesaid royal scion, 

would you believe her to be an American ? 
* 

If a handsome hotel clerk, with his hair parted 

in the middle^ and a thousand-dollar solitaire 

diamond pin and a red necktie, were to assign 

his latest arrival from Kentucky a parlor room, 

bath attached, for $2.00 a day, what would you 

think of him? 

* 

If war contractors of all kinds and government 



204 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

officers were absolutely honest and religious men, 

working incessantly for the entire good of their 

country, thinking only of the public weal, and 

oblivious to their own selfish interest, what would 

be your verdict ? 

* 

If a politician were to keep strictly and invio- 
lably the promises he made before election to his 
constituents after edection, and never once thought 
of making money, directly or indirectly, out of 
the laws Avhich he enacted, what would you think 
of his mental caliber ? 

If a woman of fashion, with a pair of spank- 
ing bays, visiting a friend, driver, outrider and 
"tiger" on the box, were to call and take lunch 
without mentioning the latest style of bonnet, 
gown, flower or fad, Avhat would her husband or 
the "lady of the house" say? 



DON^T. 

Don't gamble. 

Don't act for effect. 

* 

Don't tell all you know. 
* 

Don't pander to power. 
* 

Don't dress to suit others. 
* 



Don't heed jealous critics. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 205 

Don't be afraid of anybody. 

Don^t be indebted to a fool. 
* 

Don't whisper in company. 
* 

Don't ask about their conduct. 

Don't put on supercilious airs. 

Don't kick a man when down. 

Don't think you'll live always. 

Don't mind what the papers say. 
* 

Don't drink intoxicating liquors. 

Don't suspect any of your friends. 

Don't think riches always remain. 

Don't write verse and call it poetry. 
* 

Don't marry until vou are truly wise. 
Don't sit down unless you are invited. 
Don't expect perfection from anybody. 
Don't pretend to be what you are not. 
Don't promise what you can't perform. 



2o6 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Don't cheer the actor in the wrong place. 
* 

Don't talk when you have nothing to say. 
* 

Don't believe a politician without a bond. 

Don't go in debt without a way to pay out. 
* 

Don't blink, simper and flirt with the ladies. 
* 

Don't go slumming at twelve o'clock at night. 

Don't run for office until unanimously called. 
* 

Don't forget they know you're an *^easy" simple- 
ton. 

Don't think you are the only man in the the- 
ater. 

* 

Don't tell your family or friends all' you intend 

to do. 

* 

Don't accept a favor that you can't liquidate 

in kind. 

* 

Don't walk to the front orchestra chair with 

your hat on. 

♦ 

Don't talk scandalously and cowardly behind 

a man's back. 

* 

Don't think you're Shakespeare when you're a 
kind of a literary skunk. 



Fatal Facts In Prose and Poetry. 207 

Don't smoke, swear, weep, lie, betray, steal, kill, 
or play the sneak and coward. 

Don't imagine that people bother themselves 
about your business. 

Don't stand in front of a theater or a church 

and make an ass of yourself. 
* 

Don't get the "swell head" because you happen 
to be on a paper or occupy a little temporary 

office. 

DO. 

Do good to those that revile you. 

Do what you will you'll be criticized. 

Do your duty as you see and feel it from day to 

Do the best you know how, and leave the rest 

to God. 

* 

Do the honest thing anyhow, and your own 

conscience will approve. 
* 

Do a great deal better than you seem to do, 
find a double praise will echo in your ears. 

Do everything possible to make everybody happy, 
and you'll* get some comfort and pleasure yourself. 

Do a lasting favor to mankind by telling the 



2o8 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

whole truth, rough and unvarnished as it often 

appears. 

* 

Do more thinking and acting and less talking 

and writing, and you'll not get into so much 

trouble. 

* 

Do a kindness to humanity by keeping your 
mouth shut when brains, bravery and beauty has 
the floor. 

Do away with the notion that you are a great 
man, and you'll have some chance to get into 
the category. 

Do the laughing and singing act, and your au- 
dience will be charmed ; weep and grieve, and they 

leave the house. 

* 

Do always the pleasant and polite thing to the 

ladies, no matter how rude you may unwittingly 

act towards men. 

* 

Do ever the just and proper act, if you can, 
and if you fail, you'll have the inherent satisfac- 
tion of truthfully trying. 
* 

Do good, for the sake of the good, not from 

any motives of policv, hope of reward or fear of 

punishment, but just because it is right. 
* 

Do your writing, correspondence, as if the let- 
ter would appear the next morning in the New 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 209 

York Sun; and you will not have much occasion 
for sorrow and regret. 

Do a favor for any man whenever you can, and 
some day he may do one for you ; but if he doesn't, 
you are just that much his superior, and he'll 
always be in your debt, which is a sore slavery to 
the proud and wise. 



POETIC PILLS. 



LIZZIE LEE. 
(Dedicated to Edward H. Droop.) 

How fond memory loves to linger, 

O'er the joys of long ago, 
When our lives knew not a shadow, 

And our souls knew not a woe; 
But the snows of forty winters, 

With my tresses have made free, 
Since I roamed the fragrant meadows, 

With barefooted Lizzie Lee. 

Though the years have scarred my features, 

And dead hopes have seared my heart, 
Still affection rules my spirit. 

And I act the manly part. 
One sweet love has long been missing, 

One that was so dear to me ; 
How I miss my little schoolmate — 

My barefooted Lizzie Lee. 



210 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Far beyond the shining planets, 

She is dwelling with the blest; 
Holy angels guard her footsteps, 

In that home of peaceful rest. 
When this fitful life is over, 

Her dear face again I'll see. 
And roam through heavenly bowers, 

With my sweetheart, Lizzie Lee. 
* 

GHOSTS. 

Wliat care I for crowns or creeds. 
The tyrants of to-day. 
These spooks and ghosts of centuries. 
Shall surely pass away. 
And some day truth and love shall rule, 
Before we leave this sod. 
When all shall be transplanted 
To the upland fields of God. 
* 

DO UP. 

To win and succeed you must flatter and fool, 
And constantly think of the iron-clad rule, 
To do up your fellow in palace or pew. 
Because, if you don't, he wdll quickly do you. 
* 

DEFY. 

A tyrant gang and bigot crew, 

I gladly still defy, 
I live alone for love and truth. 

And shall until I die. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 2 1 1 



TRUE. 

What care I for wealth or beauty 

If they are not shared with me — 

Nothing wins but love and duty — 

Constant to eternity ! 
* 

LABOR. 

Labor is the lot of man ; 
Labor is the God-like plan; 
Labor is the joy of health; 
Labor is the prize of wealth; 
Labor on and labor ever, 
Like a sparkling, flowing river. 
Fresh and shining to the sea. 
Labor to eternity ! 

JUST. 

Just keep a clear head and sound stomach, 
And then you^ll have nothing to fear; 

With a hundred or two in your pocket 
You can shine every day in the year. 

Just believe in yourself every hour ; 

Don't heed what the rabble may say; 
They'll praise without reason to-morrow, 

And damn without reason to-day. 

Just 'tend to your health and your business. 
And be sure that you're honest and right; 

And then you can wager a million 

That you'll come out the first in the fight ! 



212 Brickbats and Bouquets. 



LINCOLN. 

Lofty Lincoln through the ages 

Shall endure on golden pages, 

And his glorious, loyal name 

On the templed towers of fame, 

Like a beacon light at sea — 

Emblem of the brave and free. 

Shall remain for Liberty 

Onward to eternity. 
* 

THE STAR. 

Twinkle, twinkle, Evening Star! 

It's no wonder that you are 

Far above the world so high — 

Marble poem in the sky ! 

For through all your growing years, 

With the people's smiles or tears, 

You have sympathized and wrought 

In the noblest, loftiest thought. 
* 

THE SILENT BALLOT. 

The ballots fall like flakes of snow. 

So silent, pure, and still ; 
Majestic in their peaceful flow. 

To speak the freeman's will. 

The nation's voice is uttered there. 
In tones of God-like sound; 

Demanding homage everywhere. 
Unmarked by metes and bounds. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 213 

Columbia from her mountain crest 
Proclaims from shore to shore — 

The silent ballot East and West 
Shall rule f orevermore ! 
* 

DECOKATION DAY. 

The Nation bows her head to-day- 
Above the graves of Blue and Gray, 
And Freedom, with her star-gemmed flag, 
Stands tip-toe on the mountain crag 
To decorate in Maytime hours 
The soldier's moimd with sweetest flowers. 
And bless our land from shore to shore — 
The Union now and evermore ! 

LIBEKTY. 

Liberty, Liberty, Goddess of Glory ! 

Eeign in thy beauty, immortal and true ; 
Down through the ages in song and in story. 

You sparkle and brighten like diamonds of 
dew. 

Liberty, Liberty, never grow hoary ! 

Blossom and beam like the flowers of the field. 
Thy garments of grandeur are torn and gory, 

With blood of the martyrs who never would 
yield. 

Liberty, Liberty, shine on eternal ! 

Eule o'er the world by day and by night ; 
Ever be brilliant, radiant and vernal 

Forever and ever still stan^ for the right. 



214 Brickbats and Bouquets. 



DEATH. 

Can this be death that ever brings 
Impartial fate to slaves and kings, 
With cold and clamm}^, withered hands 
It leads us to untrodden lands. 

Its icy fetters round us creep, 
Compelling deep eternal sleep, 
And sweet oblivion covers all 
The sons of men since Adam's fall. 

The trials and pangs of earth depart 
When Death reigns monarch of the heart, 
While we are left so pale and lone — 
Transplanted to the great unknown ! 
* 

THERE. 

Where ocean billows loudly roar 
Against the rocks that rim the shore. 
And thunder-showers prevail and pour — 
There would I dwell forevermore. 

Where mountain crags leap bold and high— 
Their snow-capped summits piercing sky 
Where only sounds the eagle's cry — 
There would I reign until I die. 

Where suns and stars eternal roll, 
And flash their lights from pole to pole. 
Within yon heavenly golden goal — 
There "Fould I rest my sighing soul. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 215 

LION. 

(The Dog's Soliloquy.) 

Behold in me 
The image true 

Of Faith unto the end. 
I know and feel 
You never knew 

A better, braver friend! 

I could not swear. 
Or cheat, or lie. 
Because not built that way. 
I'd rather be 
A dog and die 

Than be but to betray. 
* 

THE DEWEY ARCH. 

The board of aldermen have voted unanimously 
to tear down the Dewey Arch, and Mayor Van 
Wyck has signed the ordinance. — Press Dispatch. 

Tear down the arch; it is not a blot 

On the hero who captured Manila. 
The public applause is nothing but "rot," 

And as frail as the foam on the billow. 

Tear down the arch ; it can't add to the fame 
Of brave Dewey and all of his heroes, 

For down through the years his illustrious name 
Shall shine o'er poli^^cal Neros. 



2i6 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Tear down the arch ; let it crumble to dust. 
Yet the roar of his guns at Manila 

Shall echo the fame of Dewey's great name, 
While the storm winds rip up the billow ! 

MIND IS MONARCH. 

Mind is monarch everywhere, 
In home, in church and state; 

Ruler of all joy and care — 
Among the small and great. 

Mind is monarch of the hour. 

Divine in every place ; 
Harbinger of wealth and power — 

To guide the human race. 

Mind is monarch to the tomb, 

Imperial its sway, 

Triumphs over grief and gloom — 

Unto eternal day. 
* 

THE SOUL^S FAREWELL. 

Farewell, dear old mansion, for eighty long years 
I have dwelt in your crannies, through smiles and 

through tears. 
But now I must leave you for realms above — 
To join all the spirits of light and of love. 

You must molder to dust and go down to decay. 
While I soar aloft on my predestined way — 
To be bom again into worlds of bliss — 
Far better than all I have known while in this. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 217 

Yet, out of corruption, I am born anew, 
x4nd out of the false shall be molded the true. 
While down through the ages in joy or in gloom, 
The soul soars triumphant far over the tomb ! 
* 

SUEE. 

Live how we may by pay or trust, 
Sooner or later die we must ; 
The poor, the rich, the weak, the brave 
Alike descend into the grave, 
And everything of mortal birth 
Eeturns at last to Mother Earth ! 
* 

WILLIAM WITTHAFT BRIDE. 

You're nineteen to-day, and happy and gay, 
But remember, through all coming years, 

That the lessons of youth and the logic of truth 
Are jewels of smiles and of tears. 

Xo man is so great in church or in state. 

But sooner or later must die, 
Arid flutter away like leaves, or the spray, 

Or mist rolling up to the sky. 

Then laugh loud and long, join the singers and 
song. 

And mix with 3^our square fellow-man. 
Be brilliant and bright at morn, noon and night, 

And live on the heroic plan ! 



2i8 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

EEST. 

(Dedicated to the memory of Michael Cavanagh.) 

Kest, brave heart, your work is done, 
No more in life, from sun to sun. 
Shall joy or trouble, grief or pain, 
Afflict your burning brain again. 

Dear Erin, with her flag of green, 
Encrapes her colors o'er this scene. 
And on thy lowly bed her tears 
Shall gild thy grave across the years. 

For liberty you lived alone, 
Defiant to the British throne ; 
A patriot of "Forty-eight," 
Who bowed not to the tyrant State. 

A simple, noble honest man, 
Who lived without a plot or plan. 
And over mount and stormy sea. 
Flung out the banner of the free! 
* 

FADED. 

She gave to me a rose with love, 

And tress of hair implaided. 
And vowed by all the stars above — • 

Alas ! how soon they faded ! 

He gave to me a golden ring 

With diamonds overladed; 
I found it but a pinchbeck thing. 

How soon his passion faded ! 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 219 

And thus vre find from hour to hour, 

The roses that we've braided^ 
Entwined with vows within a bower, 

Are just the ones that faded! 
* 

SHEPHEED. 

Let bronze and granite pierce the skies 

To glorify his fame — 
A man of lofty enterprise — 

Illustrious his name. 

He bowed not to the rabble-crew, 

But forward kept his flight, 
For sure and well he always knew 

That what he did was right ! 

For Washington he gave his all 

To make it great and grand; 
He stood just like a granite wall. 

The loftiest in the land ! 
* 

HEADSTOI^ES. 

Long lines of headstones stretch away 
Above the mounds of Blue and Gray, 
And through the woods the sunlight falls. 
While far beyond the waterfalls 
Re-echo to the redbird's calls. 

Old Luna, with her mystic ray, 
Floods mellow beams o'er Blue and Gray, 
And nature, bathed in sparkling dew. 
Spreads flowers abo^-e the brave and true 
Who slumber 'neath the boundless blue. 



2 20 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

The God who reigns so far above 
Shall bless all creatures with His love; 
And cares alike for Blue and Gray 
Who lived and loved their little day 
And then like echoes passed away ! 
* 

THEY NEVER COME BACK. 

Billions and billions of men pass away 
To the tomb, out of life's storm and rack ; 

Ages and ages resolve them to clay, 
But they never, no never, come back. 

Princes and paupers go down to decay — 
The Caucasian and African black; 

They fret and they strut eighty years or a day. 
But they never, no never, come back. 

Then laugh while we may, be happy and gay. 
And have pleasure with Lizzie or Jack, 

Eor when we are gone to the grave one by one, 
We never, no never, come back ! 
* 

THE STONECUTTER. 

Clink, clink, clink, the stonecutter chips the block, 
Clink, clink, clink, he fashions the hardest rock ; 
Clink, clink, clink, the man chisels away. 
Clink, clink, clink, he's jolly the livelong day. 

Clink, clink, clink, with hammer, chisel and square^ 
Clink, clink, clink, his stalwart arm is bare ; 
Clink, clink, clink, the temple he builds on high. 
Clink, clink, clink, he soars to the boundless sky. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 221 

Clink, clink, clink, he labors for tmth and love, 

Clink, clink, clink, he's bound for the realms 

above ; 

Clink, clink, clink, for mother and child and wife, 

Clink, clink, clink, he labors for home and life ! 
* 

THE MILLIOiSTAIRE. 

He only left millions and millions behind, 
But none of the fruits of a glorious mind ; 
And to-day his old bones on the top of the hill 
Are rotting away like a tumble-down mill. 

In life he was selfish and greedy and cold. 
And managed all people for silver and gold ; 
A tyrant by nature, a trimmer by art, 
A man without mercy or kindness of heart. 

I'd rather be Shakespeare or Goldsmith or Payne, 
Vvho wrote for the heart and the home without 

gain; 
Whose songs through the ages forever shall be 
A joy and a bliss to the brave and the free ! 

BE UP AXD ^^DOING." 

Be sure and do your fellow. 

For he'll do the same to you. 
Be jolly, keen and mellow. 

And you'll rule the rabble crew. 

Join the church, play the broker. 

Be cunning, bland and wise, 
And while you play the joker. 

Be sure and grab the prize, 



222 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Fool the world with your seeming, 
Be a secret, dastard knave; 

Leave conscience to the dreaming, 
Pile "up cash on land and wave. 

Then, as a sneak and faker. 
You will go beneath the sod, 

Fooling Pagan, Christian, Quaker, 
But not your judging God. 



EIGHT. 

(Written for the Baltimore American.) 

It matters little what is said, 

Or how you talk or fight. 
There's nothing settled on this earth, 

Until it's settled right ! 

No matter what the verdict is 

In any given light. 
There can't be anv settlement 

Until it's settled right ! 

No bureau, court or President, 

With arrogance or might. 
Can rule our soul opinion 

Unless they rule it right! 

But every free American, 

With independent flight. 
Decides and judges for himself 

And knows what's just and right ! 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 223 

SHAVE, SIR! 

(Dedicated to the Washington barbers.) 

If you're hairy, tired, and dirty, 
Do your shaving on a Monday, 

For the barber will be bunkoed 
If he shaves you on a Sunday. 

He'll be fined a golden twenty 
By a Kimball, Scott, or Bundy, 

If he dares to clean a traveler 
On a quiet morning Sunday. 

Down, with foolish law or custom, 
That rebukes a change of shirt 

And prevents a shave on Sunday — 
Puts a premium on dirt! 

"THE SPOILS." 

I once knew some folks who got into the toils. 
And through Civil Service inherited '^spoils;" 
They would conquer by sneaking or fencing with 

foils. 
These rooters and looters, the Dales and the 

Doyles. 
They always were "In" and never were "out," 
Because they could tell what the "fuss" was about, 
And knew when elections went off with a rout. 
The time and the place where to cheer and to 

shout. 



2 24 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

They turned their principles just as their clothes, 
Were cheerful to friends and were cheerful to 

foes, 
And wherever they ploughed, in rich or bare soils, 
They never neglected the Dollars or "Spoils." 

So, they lived and they died in a Government job, 
And, according to law, they could plunder and 

rob; 
And they frowned at the dastard who dared to 

remove. 
The Dales and the Doyles from the Government 

groove. 
And thus are the People bamboozled and f^^-^ ■ d, 
And fondled, and flattered and looted and ruled, 
By keen college sharpers — an arrogant crew. 
Who are really the "Spoilsmen" just now foling 



you! 



* 
SOME DAY. 



Some day my eyes will not behold 
Yon dome adorned with virgin gold. 

But cold and peaceful, lone and still, 
I'll rest within yon green "Oak Hill." 

Some day, beside the summer sea, 
1^11 not be happy, gay and free. 

But other feet shall tread those sands 
From foreign and domestic lands. 

Some day across the tides of time. 
My phrase and song and classic rhyme 

Shall cheer up many a brilliant scene 
And keep my fading memory green, 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 225 



BEAUTY. 

This world is full of beauty; 

There's nothing bleak or bare, 
For he who does his duty, 

Finds beauty everywhere. 

There's beauty in the billow, 
There's beauty in the rose, 

Beneath the weeping willow — 
An emblem of repose. 

There's beauty in the twilight, 
When evening beams are gone, 

And stars peep through the skylight, 
Like diamonds one by one. 

There's beauty in loud laughter, 

It thrills for you and me. 
And rings from floor to rafter. 

And echoes o'er the lea. 

There's beauty in the sparkling eye. 

That beams on us to-day. 
Where love and truth are ever nigh, 

And fresh as flowers of May. 

There's beauty in the sighing soul, 

Where poverty abounds, 
And heaven is its final goal! — ' 

Celestial pleasure grounds, 



226 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

There's beauty all around us, 
While life and love still reign, 

A balm for all our sorrow, 
A cure for all our pain. 

commo:n^ sense. 

It matters little where I lie 
When I am called by God to die; 
He brought me here without my will, 
And He has every right to kill. 

I know not to what land I go, 
Or whether there be weal or woe; 
But this I know, while living here, 
I never felt a coward fear. 

Then why should I, where'er I plod. 
Have any fear of any rod — 
Above this sphere or on this sod 
That's wielded by my Maker — God! 

WOELDLY BEAUTY. 

Don't grieve over friends departed, 

If lost or living or dead ; 
Be jolly and bright and happy 

And you'll find many more instead. 

And the world is full of beauty 

For those v/ho can suffer and smile. 

While the sweetest task is duty. 
Though adrift on a barren isle. 



Fatal Facts In Prose and Poetry. 227 

If you're worthy of love, you'll get it; 

And there never was yet a day 
That I couldn't see some beauty 

As I traveled my worldly way. 

DAY BY DAY. 

Day by day we think and work; 

Day by day we live and die ; 
Day by day the keenest dirk. 

Of Fate stabs every living lie ! 

Day by day our friends depart ; 

Day by day our power goes; 
Day by day breaks some fond heart 

O'er flowery fields or mountain snows. 

Day by day with Hope and Love 

We plume our wings for yonder sphere. 

Where we shall reign with God above, 

Forgetting all our sorrows here. 
* 

THE WOKLD. 

The world moves on without us. 
If we sneer and snarl and growl. 

And forward moves the nations 
Irrespective of our howl. 

The world is full of glory 

For those who'll dare and do, 
And fame will crown the hero. 

Who is ever brave and true. 



228 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

The world will laugh and cheer you, 
If you gaily move along, 

And help your toiling comrades 
With a hand-lift and a song. 

The world is what we make it 
In our struggles day by day; 

Success is ever shining 
For the hero in the fray. 

THE LITTLE WHITE HEARSE. 

The little white hearse 

With its snowy plume, 
Is standing in front 

Of the darkened room ; 
For the cold, dead boy 

In a shroud up there 
Will never again 

Tumble down the stair! 

With The Morning Post, 

And the Evening Star, 
He'll never repeat — 

"All about the warf 
'Not laugh nor play 

For his mates in glee 
While dancing a jig 

With a heart so free. 

The little white hearse 
To the graveyard goes. 

Through the crowded street 
With a mother's woes — ' 



Fa-al Facts in Prose and Poetry, 229 

Bewailed on the air. 

For her newsboy pride — 

Her only support — 

Has struggled and died ! 
* 

ONE FEIEND. 

Grant me, oh Lord, one faithful, honest friend. 
Who'll stand through trouble to the bitter end; 
Whose praise and purse are ever at my call 
Whose love shall last when others fly and fall. 

Grant a friend that will not lie or falter. 
Heart and soul that will not change or alter, 
A mortal that will stand in weal or woe. 
Through summer^s scorching suns, or winter's 
snow. 

True, noble friends are very rarely found, 
Except you search, and find them under ground; 
Yet, such a friend without vain pride or pelf, 
You may, perchance, discover in yourself ! 

HAPPY. 

It is easy to laugh away trouble 

If your heart and your soul beat together ; 

For the man who will never play double 
Is prepared for the worst kind of weather. 

He will sing and will laugh at awaking, 
Though the clouds of misfortune portend. 

And though his proud heart may be breakiiTg 
He will live and will laugh to the end. 



230 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Then laugh while you can in the morning 

And laugh through the day and the night, 

There's always a love for the laughter 

Who's happy and genial and bright. 
* 

DEWS OF THE MORNING. 

(A Sentimental Song.) 

The dews of the morning but glisten and go; 

The splendors of noon are soon over; 
And the sunset of life, with its cardinal glow, 

Departs like the blush on the clover. 

And so every heart has its dawn and its dew. 
And sweet love that we ever remember, 

But sadly to think that the sweet and the true 
Fade and die like the leaves in December. 

Yet far up abr)ve in a realm of love 
There's a welcome and undying ember, 

That's ever so bright by morn, noon, and night, 
With never cold snows of December. 

REFRAIN. 

Then feast day by day, pluck the flowers of May, 
And don't wait for the snows of December. 

JUSTICE. 

The earth and sea were made for man, 

x\nd God reigns over all ; 
Each nation on a different plan 

Has lived since Adam's fall. 



Fatal Facts In Prose and Poetry. 231 

For Truth and Justice shall survive 

Though human laws rebel; 
Equality shall ever thrive 

On mountain, sea, and dell. 

The right to live, the right to work, 

Must never be denied, 
And whether Chinese, Jap or Turk, 

Their wants must be supplied. 

The Golden Eule must still prevail. 

And Christians must be just; 
This great Republic cannot fail 

In hope and love and trust. 

Columbia must extend her hands 

To every foreign clime, 
Inviting workers from all lands, 

Eepelling filth and crime. 

And Freedom, from her Western seat, 

Shall never cease to be 
A refuge, noble and complete. 

For all who would be free. 
* 

YOU CAWT TAKE A DOLLAR AWAY. 
(Dedicated to Hon. James L. Norris.) 

It is good to be proud, it is well to be rich. 

It is fine to be happy and gay ; 
But as sure as you live, you must leave all your 
wealth, 

For you can't take a dollar away. 



232 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

You may swell in the church and shine in the 
state — 

Be as bright as a sun-glinting ray ; 
But soon all your power and pelf will depart, 

And you can't take a dollar away. 

So be laughing and kind, with a generous mind, 
And distribute your cash day by day; 

And you'll find in the end that God is your friend 
If 3'OU give daily dollars away. 

PUSHED ! 

When the flag of our Union was shot from its 
staff 

By rebels, defiant and blunt. 
We rushed to its aid with a shout and a laugh. 

And we pushed to the battlefield front. 

At Shiloh and Gettysburg, Cold Harbor, too. 

We rallied around at a hunt 
For warriors in Gray who ripped up the Blue, 

When we pushed to the battlefield front. 

When stay-at-home copperheads sneakingly struck 
With a sneer and a hiss and a grunt. 

We shouldered our muskets with pride and with 
pluck. 
And we pushed to the battlefield front. 

When the toes of the dying and eyes of the dead 
Turned up like a flat-bottom punt. 

We rallied again and went right ahead 
As we pushed to the battlefield front. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 233 

But now, when they need us no more in the line, 

And our lives have grown weary and sear. 

We are twisted and tossed like an old mountain 

pine 

And are pushed out of ranks to the rear. 
* 

ELKS NEVER GIVE UP. 

Never give up if adversity presses. 
Providence wisely has mingled the cup. 

And the best watchword in all your distresses 
Is the brave motto — Never give up ! 

Never give up in the midst of the battle. 
Fear not the bullet, the bayonet or cup. 

Stand to your colors where guns loudly rattle 
And fling out your banner of — Never give up ! 

Never give up when the world assails you; 

The dog of derision is only a pup. 

Face all the hounds and the wolves that decry you, 

And fling out your banner of — Never give up ! 
* 

'IS THE SUNSHINE ALL GONEP' 

— William McKinley. 

*^Is the sunshine all gone'^ from this world of 
sorrow ? 
Were the words of McKinley so brave and so 
true; 
Yes, never again shall the sun of to-morrow 
Bless his eyes with a sight of the trees and the* 
dew. 



234 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

But, far in a realm of Life Everlasting, 

The sun is still shining around the White 
Throne, 
Where saints in their glory are beaming and bask- 
ing, 
And the gloom of this earth shall be never more 

known. 

* 

BE YOUESELF. 

Be yourself in joy or trouble; 

Be yourself from day to day; 
Be a man and don't play double; 

Be a hero in the fray. 

Be yourself and do not falter ; 

Be yourself when friends depart; 
Be for truth that will not alter; 

Be a man of soul and heart. 

Be yourself in sun or shower ; 

Be yourself to the end; 
Be yourself from hour to hour. 

And you'll always have a friend. 

Be yourself for Freedom ever; 

Be as pure as morning dew. 
Like a grand, old rolling river, 

To thyself be brave and true. 

Be yourself in every action ; 

Be yourself in church and state. 
Do not bow to "faith" or "faction," 

\^Tiether small^ or large or great 



Fatal Facts In Prose and Poetry. 235 

Be yourself, with good opinion; 

Heed not what the world may say. 
Thinking is supreme dominion, 

Euling over human clay ! 
* 

EVANESCENT. 

The temples and towers we live in to-day 

Have sheltered brave hearts that have vanished 

away ; 
And the glory and wealth they thought to retain 
Are gone to the past like the mist and the rain. 

The father who struggled for fortune and fame, 
The child of misfortune, and sorrow, and shame — 
Have all passed away, with a sigh and a groan. 
To the mystical fields of the great, vast unknown. 

The blare of the trumpets and roar of the guns 
Have gone like the winds and the process of suns. 
The king and the peasant, the serf and the slave. 
Are equal at last in the dust of the grave! 

And the beauty that once was the pride of the ball. 
Decked with diamonds and rubies; so graceful 

and tall; 
No more shall be seen, with voluptuous swell, 
As the gay and the festive, the sweet, bounding 

belle. 

The poet and warrior, statesman and sage — 
A toast and a glory from age unto age — 
Must all leave their love and their labors behind. 
And only be known by the product of mind. 



236 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

And so every pleasure that cheers us 'to-day, 

Like the leaves of the autumn and dews pass away ; 

And nothing remains on this lone, earthly sod 

But our hope and our trust in our Maker, our 

God! 

* 

GO AHEAD ! 

In the battle of life be the foremost, 

And never consent to be led; 
Where the fight is the hardest and hottest, 

Then charge to the front — go ahead ! 

And when faint hearts are trimming and doubting. 
And fearful that they may be dead, 

Arise in your manhood, and shouting 
Go forward and spring right ahead. 

And remember that Labor is noble. 

And the black, and the white or the red, 

Will each have a glorious triumph. 

If they struggle and still go ahead. 
* 

OLD IRELAND. 

For seven hundred years and more 

A sigh from o'er the sea 
Re-echoes still from shore to shore 

Old Ireland must be free. 

From Runnymede to Fontenoy 

The Celt has sung with glee, 
And sounds the chorus still with joy, 

Old Ireland must be free' 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 237 

Old Brian Bom and Emmet too, 

Have taught o'er lake and lea, 
The watchword bright, and brave and true 

Old Ireland must be free ! 

Sarsfield, O'Connell &nd Parnell, 

Predicted what shall be 
That even the fires of Saxon hell. 

Must make Old Ireland free ! 

The Harp that once through Tara's hall 

Shall sound its deathless plea. 
The everlasting constant call. 

Old Ireland must be free ! 

The tyrant reign of Kings and Queens, 

Shall some day cease to be; 
When blessed with floral, vernal scenes. 

Old Ireland must be free ! 

Columbia with her might and main. 

Shall strike the golden key 
And sound aloud the glad refrain 

Old Ireland must be free! 

And down the crowding ages 

From the Hudson to the Lee, 
We'll print on classic pages 

Old Ireland must be free. 

Then we'll rear a shaft to Emmet 
That shall shine o'er land and sea, 

AVhen love will have no limit, 
And Old Ireland must be free ! 



238 Brickbats and Bouquets. 



THE NEW IS OLD. 

The new is old, the old is new, 

Poets have no limitation, 
And even their words and thoughts so true 

Are but nnconscious imitation. 

A million times each word we speak 

And ntter with a royal roar. 
Has been expressed as bold or meek, 

A thousand million times before. 

It's only arrogance and pride 

That stirs within poor, midget man; 

And he must know that those who died 
Were built upon the same old plan. 

Then, try and think where'er you turn, 

That life has but a single rule, 
And though you fill a golden urn. 

You're nothing but a strutting fool ! 
* 

BEYOND. 

Beyond the sunset gleaming, 
There's a land of golden light. 

Where the Truth is never seeming, 
And the Eight is always right. 

Far beyond the stars still singing. 
There's a realm of endless love. 

Where the golden bells are ringing 
For the banquet board above. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 239 

Far beyond this world of sorrow 
There's a Home for you and me, 

Where the day has no to-morrow. 
In yon vast Eternity ! 
* 

CLOSE THE GATES. 

Close the gates, the ^'Goth" and "Vandal/' 

Desecrate our glorious land, 
Bringing ruin, wrong, and scandal 

To Columbia, bright and grand. 

Close the gates to "Hun" and "Dago," 

"Russ," and "Pole," and "Turk," and "Don," 

From Baffin's Bay to Santiago, 
Down these Dastards, one by one. 

Close the gates to crime and trouble, 

Tramp out anarchy forever; 
Leave it like a bursted bubble 

On a rolling, rushing river. 

Close the gates to emigration, 

Bringing only filth and crime, 
We must work our own salvation 

Down the templed aisles of time. 

THE AEMY CANTEEl^. 

If women would only attend to their home, 
And be modest and meek and serene, 

The soldier on mountain, on valley, or foam . 
Will attend to the Army Canteen ! 



240 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

We battled by night and we battled by day, 
And encamped over fields, bare or green. 

Yet one of the comforts we had on our way 
Was a drink from the Army Canteen ! 

It's easy for temperance people to talk; 

But it's hard to be mild and serene, 
When the man who must struggle and worry and 
walk 

Is deprived of the Army Canteen ! 

The ''Senate" and "House" that still act for the 
Free 
Take the fat while they leave us the lean ; 
For down in the basement they take their "Cold 
Tea," 
And refuse us the Army Canteen ! 

The hypocrite crew may sneak and may do. 

But their laws we evade in between — 

In each city and town as we march up and down 

The Saloon is the Army Canteen ! 
* 

CHOKE IT DOWN. 

When you find that friends betray you 

In the country or the town. 
And you feel that )^ou've been injured. 

Bide your time and choke it down. 

When the dear ones you've supported, 
Play the ingrates with a frown. 

And your anger rises justly, 
Be still brave and choke it down. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 241 

When the world is full of censure. 
And pursues you like a clown^ 

Put a bridle on your vengeance, 
Laugh and sing and choke it down. 

Then with silence, love and patience, 

You will wear the martyr's crown. 
Be translated to a region 

Where you need not choke it down. 

* 

HARTNETT'S. 

Have you ever reclined at Hartnett's 
Where Bacchus and Venus hold sway, 

And the "Boys'' are so festive and jolly. 
While the "Ladies" are brilliant and gay ? 

Go down to the east side of Seventh, 
There wit flows so genial and free. 

And the night is as brilliant as daylight — 
On the corner of Seventh and "Gee" ! 

There the lobster and oyster commingle 
With the birds and the bass and the wine, 
With "Old Rye" that will make your tongue 
tingle — 
While the servants are all superfine. 

And there reigns "mine host'^ of the Tavern — 
"Johnny" Hartnett, the man with the smile. 

Whose Shakespearean wit was imported 
From the banks of the Emerald Isle ! 



242 Bnckbats and Bouquets. 



SHE. 

She could not understand the soul 
That flashed in thought from pole to pole, 
And left her to her sordid care 
While he was in the ambient air. 

She could not know the thoughts that rise 
Impulsive in the poet's skies. 
Or sympathize with grand ideal 
While she was reveling in the real. 

She bowed to lower, earthly things, 
While he was born with brilliant wings 
To soar away where suns and stars 
Eevolve around the fields of Mars. 

She could not help Ker worldly way, 
And lived for Fashion night and day — 
Amid the glare of wealth and power — 
The sparkling wizard of an hour! 
* 

DON'T QUAEEEL. 

Don't quarrel with your fellow 
If his face be black or white ; 

He may be just as mellow 

As yourself, and just as right. 

Don't quarrel with the fashion 
Of his clothes, or hat or hair— 

Don't get into a passion, 

Or you never will "get there." 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 243 

Don't quarrel with, the traveler 

If ragged, rich or poor ; 
Don't be a growling caviller 

That no one can endure. 

Don't quarrel 'bout religion, 

For you know not what it is; 
Just be a tame "stool pigeon," 

While the preachers tend to "biz." 

Don't quarrel 'bout election, 

Or be so wildly bent 
To work up insurrection 

For any President. 

Don't trouble 'bout the White House; 

The occupant don't care; 
He simply works the voter 

As a ladder to get there ! 

Don't quarrel with your neighbor 

For any cause at all, 

But live and love and labor 

And be just to great or small. 
* 

SELF-EELIANCE. 

Standing on this rushing steamer. 
Looking forward from its prow. 

And afloat upon life's ocean, 
I defy the billows now 

For my soul is centered ever 
In the suns and sparkling stars 

That still light the way to glory 
In the upland fields of Mars. 



244 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Self-reliant, fearless, onward,' 

I shall hold my lofty way, 
Spurning every sordid motive. 

Till I reach yon bright Cathay — •' 

Where sweet love and truth are vernal,^ 

And dark envy never reigns. 
Eound the flowers that spring eternal 

On celestial mounts and plains. 
* 

MILES, DEWEY AND SCHLEY. 

Here's a health to the heroes who fear not to die 
For their country and honor — Miles, Dewey and 

Schley ; 
A trio of fighters, athletic and spry. 
Yes, the finest on earth — Miles, Dewey and 

Schley. 

When war's dread alarm shocked earth, sea and 

sky, 
The stars of our hope were Miles, Dewey and 

Schley ; 
They stood for the Union, a glorious "three ply" — 
Noble men of our nation — Miles, Dewey, and 

Schley. 

The cowards and doubters still grumble and sigh 
While far to the front stand — Miles, Dewey and 

Schley ; 
And when gallant old Eebels stood ready to die 
They found to their sorrow — Miles, Dewey and 

Schley. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 245 

When "stay at home" "patriots'' looked after 

"pie," 
They forgot in their grabbing— Miles, Dewey and 

Schley, 
And when they take water — neglecting "Old 

Rye/' 

Of course they can't size up with— Miles, Dewey 
and Schley. 

And the dastard old Spaniard — the wreck of a lie 
Was soon battered down by — Miles, Dewey and 

Schley ; 
Porto Rico, Manila, Santiago's loud cry 
Still echo the glory of Miles, Dewey and Schley. 

And "some day" this Union will build strong and 
high, 

A temple of fame to Miles, Dewey and Schley, 

And when they're transplanted to the blue bound- 
ing sky. 

Red Mars will shine brighter with — Miles, Dewey 
and Schley. 

IF. 

If every man was honest, 

And noble, kind, and true. 
And wouldn't fight, or lie, or steal, 

What would the "coppers" do ? 

If every man was good and just — 

The many and the few, 
^ And told the truth both day and night 
What would the lawyeo^ do ? 



246 Brickbats and BouquetSo 

If every man would perfect be, 

Would not contest or sue, 
And gave to every one his rights, 

What would the judges do? 

If every man would have good health. 

And not get sick and blue. 
And eat and drink with reason, 

What would the doctors do ? 

If every man would cease to read, 
And need no thought or view. 

And live like Adam did of old. 
What would the writers do? 

If every man would stay on land. 
And ships would have no crew, 

And all the lakes and seas dried up, 
What would the sailor do? 

If every man would keep the peace, 

As Gentile, Jap or Jew, 
And wouldn't fight or go to war 

What would the soldier do? 

If every man would single stay, 

And be as glum as glue, 
And only lived just for himself. 

What would the ladies do? 

If every man would make his god. 
We'd need no church or pew, 

But, then, just think, my Christian friends. 
What would the preachers do? 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 247 

If every man would keep his word 

Be pure as morning dew, 
And would not lie for wealth or power, 

What would the statesman do? 



ANSWER. 

The ^^copper," lawyer, doctor, judge 
Would soon be out of breath, 

The writer, statesman, preacher, too. 
Would groan and starve to death ! 
* 

LONG TIME DEAD. 

Don't be worried about business, 
Or in haste to lose your head. 

For when you leave this teeming earth 
You'll be a long time dead. 

Don't suicide your being 

Or seek a graveyard bed. 
Because, my friend, you surely know, 

You'll be a long time dead. 

Don't grumble at misfortune, 
Or how you're dressed or fed, 

Just stay as long as possible. 
For you'll be a long time dead. 

Don't look for much perfection, 
And be careful who you wed. 

And laugh at disappointment. 
Though you be f^ long time dead. 



248 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

Be sure and take all pleasure, 

While hustling for your bread, 
And don't forget the adage, 

'^You'll be a long time dead !" 
* 

WHAT CARE I. 

What care I for the rabble opinion. 
That changes by day and by night. 

My mind is my only dominion. 
Content when I know I am right. 

What care I for the fawning and facing. 
Of Fashion, that hypocrite jade, 

Ever first and the last at the racing, 
A Janus-faced, plastered old maid. 

What care I for all princes in power, 
Who fret in their dazzling sphere. 

And who fade in the course of an hour, 
Forgot in the span of a year. 

What care I for false censure or beauty. 
That tangles my pathway to-day, 

When I know that sweet love, truth and duty, 
Are the jewels of life that will stay ! 
* 

SONGS OF A NATION. 

I ask but to write the songs of a Nation, 

And care not who then may enact all its laws; 

Down through the ages in high or low station 
The past is ever for Liberty's cause. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 249 

In failure or triumph the song of the Poet 
Is heard over mountain and river and rill, 

And tyrants are first to feel and to know it 
That Liberty's songs are the bullets that kill. 

Then sing me the songs of Old Erin forever, 
While glorious Columbia shall reign in her 
might, 
With truth as the fulcrum and God as the lever 
The I^ations of earth must be honest and right. 
* 
GET m. 

Its useless to be growling. 

Or rolling in the dust; 
The way to stop all howling. 

Is to get into the Trust. 

Be it beef or bread or iron. 

Whether law or love or lust, 
Just listen to some siren. 

And get into the Trust. 

You must know that little fishes 

Will grab at any crust, 
While the big ones take the dishes. 

And get into the Trust. 

So, put up jobs on others; 

To be rich, you surely must 
Leave conscience to your brothers 

When you get into the Trust. 



250 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

The attorneys will not aid you 

In your efforts still to bursty 
And the only way to beat it 

Is to get into the Trust. 

And then when you are plaited 

With a streak of golden dust 
You may be hit and hated 

But, you^re ^^ossing'^ in the Trust! 

I am asked this leading question 
"How can I get in the Trust?" 

Save your money and invest it 
Before you spend or bust ! 
* 

FORWARD ! 

Forward ! Keep step to the Union, 

Columbia is marching along, 
Its banner of beauty is waving, 

And N'ations are proud of her song; 
She sings with a glorious chorus, 

That sounds over river and lea, 
And thrills every heart with devotion 

That tries to be happy and free; 
And over the Philippine Islands 

The stars and stripes flutter to-day, 
Still making a pathway for Freedom, 

Through the blood of the Blue and the Gray. 
And far in the future the natives 

Will bless us for what we have done, 
In lighting their region with knowledge, 

With the glow from our Western sun ! 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 251 



ARLINGTON. 

Beside the river grave grasses quiver, 

Where loyal hosts their work have bravely done ; 

They sleep in glory and live in story, 
The martyred heroes of onr Arlington. 

Upon the ocean with deep devotion, 

Our naval heroes fought with noble pride. 

Sustained our banner in gallant manner 

And for their country freely bled and died. 

No more to battle where muskets rattle, 

And blood flowed free as water from a spring, 

At rest forever beside the river; 

This Nation's chalice with its offering. 

The flag they fought for, the end they sought for 
Shine grandly in the Union of to-day. 

And no false reason or trumped up treason 
Can from its granite moorings cut away. 

No sunlight streaming nor moonlight beaming 
Shall ever again shine for these brave hearts 
again ; 

Their race is finished, yet undiminished, 
Their glory triumphs o'er the battle plain. 

Unborn ages on golden pages, 

Shall tell the story of their loyal cause. 
And how they perished for rights they cherished, 

Defending freedom and her honest laws. 



252 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

From sun to sun while ages run, 
We'll sound in song and story, 

The record of these noble men 
Adown the aisles of glory. 

I hear again o'er hill and plain 

The cry and shot of battle; 
The neighing steed, where wounded bleed; 

The roaring, tearing metal, 

Where cannon loudly rattle. 

These mounds shall be to all the free, 

A shrine for loyal greeting. 
Where we may kneel in woe or weal 

While happy hours are fleeting, 

At every May-time meeting. 

The wild, long roll, that thrilled the soul 
No more for these resounding. 

But calm and still they top this hill. 
Where balmy airs are bounding. 
And life is not confounding. 

And memory clings where love still sings 

Among these sacred bowers 
The livelong day in sunny May 

With all its golden hours, 

And cool, refreshing showers. 

IN'o autumn blow, nor frost nor snow 
Can chill the love we cherished. 

For men so true who wore the Blue, 
In life their country nourished, 
And for that Flag they perished. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 253 

Our "Boys" with the Flag, still a-flying 
Are marching and fighting and dying; 
And if it be cold or if it be hot, 
The Flag must still "go," Constitution or not. 

And whether in China or out in Manila, 

The Flag must "Go Forward," o'er mountain or 

billow. 
And "Tories" who talk of "Imperial" rot. 
Must bow to the Flag, Constitution or not. 

So make up your mind as quick as a shot. 
That this Nation is ready, and willing, and hot 
To stand by the Flag, and shoot on the spot. 
Any traitor on earth, Constitution or not. 

We have got the Philippines, 

And we're going to keep them, too ; 

And we'll just keep on expanding 
With the Red, the White and Blue. 

And we'll civilize the "heathen," 

With "Old Glory" in the van; 
Force them into wealth and knowledge 

On the glorious Yankee plan. 

We are agents of Jehovah, 

And our Destiny is clear. 
So we'll spread our laws and letters 

Without favor, fraud or fear. 

With good "Teddy" as commander. 
And his "boys" behind the guns. 

We'll conquer savage Tagals, 

And our hpine-made Goths and Huns ; 



2 54 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

And we'll still go on "expanding," 
Like our Fathers from their birth, 

'Till we make one Grand Republic 
Of this teeming, glorious earth. 

COMRADES;— 

Our ranks are growing thinner, every year; 

And Death is still a winner, every year; 

But still our hearts are beating, 

At every Camp Fire meeting. 

With love and trust repeating, every year. 

Our Comrades have departed, every year. 

And leave us broken-hearted, every year; 

But their spirits fondly greet us, 

And constantly entreat us 

To come, that they may meet us, every year. 

Our steps are growing slower, every year 
Pale Death is still a mower, every year; 
Yet we faced him in the battle, 
Amid the muskets^ rattle, 
And defied his final edict, every year. 

We are growing old and lonely, every year. 
We have "recollection only," every year; 
But we bled for this grand Nation, 
On many a field and station. 
And with any kind of ration, every year. 

Many people may forget us, every year; 

And our enemies may fret us, every year; 

But while onward we are drifting. 

Our souls with hopes are lifting 

To heavenly scenes still shifting, every year. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 255 

In the May-time of the flowers, every year; 

We shall live in golden hours, every year; 

And our deeds be sung in story, 

Down the ages growing hoary. 

With a blaze of living glory, every year. 
* 

MY WISH. 

Bury me quietly under the sod, 
And leave me alone to my rest and God. 
Cover me over with beautiful flowers. 
That I loved so well in my living hours. 
With the violets blue and the daisies white 
111 sleep 'neath the sparkling stars of night* 
And wait for the morning glory in bloom 
To trail its beauties all over my tomb. 
When the oak and the maple in living 'green 
Wave loving arms o'er the sylvan scene 
I would wish at the close of departing day 
That some true friend on his wandering way 
Could stand at my grave in the sunset glow 
And say to some comrade — ^^Oh! well I know 
That he lived for love on the God-like plan. 
And loved above all his fellow-man V 

HURRAH FOR THE BOERS. 

(Dedicated to Hon. William Sulzer.) 

Hurrah for the Boers, may they live long in 

glory. 
And conquer the tyrant so brutal and vain, 
Who tries to destroy every vestige of freedom 
On mountain, and ocean^ on valley and plain \ 



256 Brickbats and Bouquets. 



Hurrah for the Boers ! who are fighting for free- 
dom, 
For home, love and countr}^, for honor and law, 
For ridges of gold and for valleys of diamonds, 
The finest and richest that man ever saw. 



Hurrah for the Boers ! is the cry of the nations 
That worship where Liberty reigns in her might, 
Where Freedom still battles for truth, peace and 

honor. 
And every proud heart beats for law, love and 

right. 

Hurrah for the Boers ! and the downfall of mon- 

archs, 
• The Neros of nations and curse of the world ; 
May the Tv/entieth century see their destruction 
And their blood-reeking flags torn, tattered and 

furled. 



MIXED. 

Pleasure and pain are mingled together 
And nothing is perfect below, 

While life brings us fair or foul weather 
Intermingled with sunshine or snow. 



The good and the bad ever mingle. 
In nature as well as in law. 

And troubles will never come singl 
Each life has a fault and a flaw. 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 257 



GOLD. 

For gold a jury clears a thief, 
And grants to crime a quick relief ; 
For gold the Judge upon the bench 
Will free a villain or a wench, 
While Justice — still is bought and sold 
Around the world with shining gold. 

TEAPPINGS. 

The pomp and show of church and state 

Indulged in by the false or great, 

Are only trappings to beguile, 

The foolish herd a little while. 

The public ass that bears the load 

And sweats along the dusty road, 
* 

LAUGH. 

Laugh by day and laugh by night; 
Laugh when wrong and laugh when right ; 
Laugh in sunshine, laugh in rain ; 
Laugh in joy and laugh in pain; 
Laugh at trouble near or far; 
Laugh at every wound or scar ; 
Laugh misfortune down the line ; 
Laugh above the foaming wine ; 
Laugh abroad and laugh at home; 
Laugh upon the land and foam; 
Laugh when bright eyes meet your own ; 
Laugh with soul and tender tone; 
Laugh the hours and years away; 
Laugh unto your dying day, . 



258 Brickbats and Bouquets. 

LIZZIE. 

'Lizzie, Lizzie, ever going, 

Working night and day. 

Laughing, singing, gaily glowing. 

Full of love and play. 
* 

J THOMAS. 

(Dedicated to Col. G. C. Kniffin.) 

Like yonder mountain crag, in sun and storm. 

He kept his country from all hurt and harm, 

And battled back the dashing waves of fate, 

That thundered at the portals of the state! 

His nature was as lofty as the stars, 

That sparkle in the blood red field of Mars; 

Like Jupiter, with thunderbolts in glow. 

He hurled his serried lines against the foe, 

And onward pressed, o'er valley, stream and 

bridge. 
To plant "Old Glory" on famed "Mission Ridge" ; 
And "Chickamauga'' shall his name prolong, 
Adown the rolling years with loyal song, 
And tell, at "Nashville,'' how he grandly stood, 
To shatter into shreds the ranks of Hood ! 
Victory, with her brilliant, flashing wings. 
Shall hover proudly over old "Mill Springs," 
Where yeomanry, so brave and true and plucky 
Maintained the loyalty of Old Kentucky; 
Where gallant, noble, dashing Colonel Frey 
Sent Zolicoffer's spirit to the sky! 
Our Hero stood among the faithful few 
From "Old Virginia," when the state withdreTV 



Fatal Facts in Prose and Poetry. 259 

Its old allegiance for the Union cause 

To trample into dust the Nation^s laws. 

Old Twiggs and Johnston, Hardee, and "Bob" 

Lee — 
A quartette of bold Eebels, thus you see — 
Betrayed their country, in their country's need. 
And fell like Lucifer, through human greed ! 
But, Grand "Pap'' Thomas, honest, brave and 

true. 
Clung close, and closer to the "Union Blue" ; 
And shining o'er the battlefields of fame 
His name still lingers with increasing flame, 
While down the ages through the tides of time, 
His glory shall endure in every clime — 
Because he battled, on the God-like plan 
For Justice, and the Liberty of man ! 



THE END. 



AUG 12 I90t 



AUG. 12 1902 



AUG. t5 19C; 



